Lady with the Lamp
by Hermonthis
Summary: Dark Ace/Piper - “I’m not a good guy, Piper. I’m not someone you can trust. If you think you can buy my loyalty by handing me something that belonged to Master Cyclonis, you’re wrong.”
1. I Clipped Your Wing

A/N: Here's the reason why I like Dark Ace/Piper so much – it's the Florence Nightingale Effect. Really, it is. My trite fanfic would like to pay tribute to two major influences: first is writer Michael Ondaatje - especially his book _The English Patient_, and secondly is composer Michael Nyman – specifically his work on _The Piano._ You might find occasional references to both individuals.

Lastly, a big thank you to Madame Lady for beta-ing this on such short notice!

* * *

**Lady with the Lamp**

_( chapter one: I clipped your wing )_

_Lo! in that house of misery  
A lady with a lamp I see  
Pass through the glimmering gloom,  
And flit from room to room._

(Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, _Santa Filomena, _1857)

_xxx_

He is used to living in shadows; Cyclonia is full of them, large, looming monsters with red-coal eyes and bodies devoid of the sun. His name, after all, is the Dark Ace.

Everyone knows who is. No one remembers who he used to be.

"Okay," she says, "we're taking the bandages off now."

Dark Ace sits silently on the edge of the bed; his hands fisting the cotton sheets beside his thighs, and impatiently waits for the process of removal. His Talon uniform of dark green and red is discarded in favour of simple black pants and a white shirt. It has been months since he last wore the colours of betrayal.

Much has happened over the course of several months, and he has been asleep for almost all of it. He remembers the battle at Cyclonia, specifically the throne room, where he waited silently. The Storm Hawks entered, busting their way through the metal doors for a dramatic entrance, pumped full with self-assured righteousness.

He had expected some sort of appeal, perhaps a witty remark from the squadron leader about how Cyclonia would never take over the free Atmos, and how good will always triumph over evil.

Three months ago, that's exactly what would have happened.

But things were different now. The empire had existed on borrowed time and it was only through his mistress's orders that he still served her where others have defected. They knew the empress was losing her grip on the throne, her slender fingers slipping in their grasp as something more sinister and manic seized her heart and commanded her to obey.

The female Storm Hawk spoke to him. Please, she implored, touching the glowing crystal around her neck, please let us save her. His red eyes flickered over her, he lowered his blade, and she knew she was not to be harmed.

Her words were soon taken up by the rest of her teammates, and they added their own cries of peace and amnesty – if only he handed over his mistress.

No, not yet. She still has some life within her. She could still fight her inner demon and win, and then he could take her away and rebuild Cyclonia once more, this time with more power than before. Energized with an enhanced striking crystal, his blade crackled menacingly as he prepared for their attack. He wouldn't give her up - he'd never give her up. He was Master Cyclonis's champion, and he'd give his life for her.

He stubbornly refused, and laughed to cover up his insecurity. The blonde one swore.

Behind him, howls of chilling laughter curdled the blood in his veins, and taking a look over his shoulder, he chanced a glimpse at the phantoms that tormented his master's eyes. Dark Ace had never seen the apparitions that haunted his mistress's eyes since he had only heard of them, heard her muttering words to herself as she worked on her crystal mastery for days on end. She forgot to eat, she forgot to drink - the level of obsession she attained in relation to the glowing rocks frightened him.

Perhaps he should have told her.

A piercing wail rent the air. It echoed off the walls of the chamber and spiraled up into the ceiling before blasting itself into miniscule splinters that made the hair on their necks rise. His heart, full of blood and brimming with life, quailed at the sight of the wailing girl – Master Cyclonis

They were pleading with him now, begging him to safe the life of the master he served. They could take her away from this hellish place, get her help, and she would be fine. He would be fine. All he had to do was hand her over.

There are many things that people don't understand about the Dark Ace.

They said he was evil. Sadistic. Simple-minded. They said he was born evil, and his wickedness was a means to fulfill his own narcissistic needs.

They were right. It was true.

Dark Ace lived to fight, he enjoyed the thrill of the hunt, and there was no sweeter sound in the world when the Sky Knight he had defeated realized the futility of begging for their life and merely accepted death as payment for their failure. He had killed without mercy and he had slain more Sky Knights than anyone in the history of Atmos. He had a black heart. Fear of a person was a wonderful thing.

But he was capable of love as well.

And so, when it became clear that the end was nigh, he chose to remain with her. If his failure of the past lessened his worth, then his sacrifice would mean greater to her. He could do this, he had to. The citadel shook with the rumblings of an aged Titan rising from his sleep, and the floor beneath them split open, dividing the chamber in half to reveal the layers of the abyss underneath.

Master Cyclonis was crying now. She was fighting against the being that sought to control her body, the thing that hatched from the crystal borne around her neck. Her fingernails, painted with purple and encrusted in red, scratched at her skin and tore etched long, scarlet marks where she tried to tear the pendant from her being. It wouldn't give. She couldn't breathe.

Her red-crazed eyes flickered his way as she bowed her head, gasping for breath, and he knew she would rather die than become a servant to limitless, mindless desire.

He dropped his weapon and ran towards her. Ignoring the shouts of the Storm Hawks as they raced after him, he leaped over the jutting rocks and protectively wrapped his hands around her body and permeated the hazy shroud that hung about her. A fierce chill seized his lungs when he touched her, and his vision exploded with stars. His gloved fingers dug into her arm forcefully while his nostrils caught the sharp scent of blood on her neck.

Piper screamed for him to stop.

So, this was what it was like to anger a spirit.

This is what crystals really do.

He let go of her.

Dark Ace backtracked. He stumbled and scraped his knees when he tripped over a hidden crack in the floor, and gritted his teeth in pain when his clothing gave way and small pebbles, sand, and grit entered his open wound. Gripping his blade with both hands, he returned to his mistress and glared at the specter feeding upon her spirit.

She would forgive him in time.

It was his sole duty to release her.

He swung his blade upwards; the striker crystal bathing his entire body in red, and Dark Ace did the only thing he knew how to do.

He severed the crystal from his master's neck.

And his world exploded in pain.

* * *

"Okay," she says, "we're putting the bandages back on."

Dark Ace sits stiffly on the bed; his fingers relaxed against the clean sheets as the familiar fingers of Abigail wind the cotton gauze around his face. Her hands are still rough - they still scratch his skin with the tiniest of pinpricks, but he doesn't mind.

"I've brought some clothes with me," a girl says, "Don't worry. They're clean. We managed to find these in the ruins and I thought that it would be nice if he could wear something familiar to him."

The nurse chuckles, clicking the roof of her mouth with her tongue, and Dark Ace imagines the woman placing a hand on her hips at the gesture.

"That's really sweet, now. Okay then, just place them over here – just like that – and you can come back in once he's dressed."

"Oh, okay, I guess." The girl must be speaking to him now, "I'll see you in a couple of minutes." He grunts in reply and hears her exit the room, the click of her boots a sharp contrast to the muted footfalls of the nurses here.

Abigail turns towards him, wagging her finger in the process.

"You know, you should be more kind to that girl."

Huh.

"She has done nothing but look after you since you arrived."

Really.

"And you should do more than just grunt at me."

He says nothing. She is always like this, trying to make him more sociable by opening up with useless conversation.

Releasing an exasperated sigh, Abigail cuts off the last bit of dressing. The rip of medical tape echoes in his ears before the woman's fingers press against his skull with more force. He tilts his head in the opposite direction. She chuckles to herself. Another job well done. The metallic clink of scissors in the metal tray. The squeak of the wheels as Nurse Abigail pushes the cart away.

Running a hand through his overgrown mane of hair, Dark Ace sighs. There are multiple voices in the hallway. The girl hasn't come alone.

"Not yet, Piper. I've just finished dressing his head. Why don't you wait over there?"

"How does it look?"

"Better. And before you jump to conclusions, I don't think it's safe for you to ask him about that yet. The wound is still fresh in his mind, and it's not helping him one bit to stay stationary on that bed."

"Is he that troublesome?"

Abigail laughs. "One of the worst." A young man interjects. It sounds like the blonde. The sharpshooter.

"Oh come on! He can't be that bad." Dark Ace raises an eyebrow at the remark. Oh really? Since when did the kid become an expert on his personality? Since when did they have heart-to-heart chats outside of their dogfights?

"Trust me. He is."

Dark Ace lies back down on the bed, and places his hands behind his head. There is nothing for him to do, not while he stays at the hospital. He hates taking medicine they give him, the way the coated capsules slide down his throat and take away the pain from his eyes. He waits for someone to assist him in dressing, lest he put his shirt on backwards or forgot a tricky clasp. He doesn't know what colours he is wearing right now – he hasn't looked in a mirror for several weeks. He hasn't even breathed in the clean air of a world that is no longer polluted by war.

He just sleeps.

And waits.

All he knows is that the bed is comfortable, the food is mediocre, and the woman who cleans his bandages is a familiar voice. Abigail. She speaks with stern confidence, and although he has never seen her, he knows that she is a middle-aged woman, with a pudgy silhouette and achingly dry hands.

The bandages are itchy again.

She catches him scratching the skin underneath the dressing and immediately scolds him about it. It does no good to do that, she says, the wounds have to mend on their own and if he keeps picking at the scabs, they'll never heal properly.

Irritable woman.

"Come on now," she insists, and he hears the screech of metal rungs as the woman pulls the curtains closed, a measure of privacy in a public ward. She pats his back to get him to sit up. He grumbles. "Time to get dressed. Your friends brought you some of your old clothes, and while I don't approve of the colour scheme, I guess these will have to do." One of her hands lifts the hem of his shirt and Dark Ace's head whips in the direction of her voice.

"They're _my_ clothes. I can dress myself. And they're _not_ my friends."

Another exasperated sigh. "Very well then."

She watches uninterested as her patient grumbles and positions himself, his bare feet hanging off the edge of the bed, and turns in the opposite direction so she doesn't see the full extent of his body, specifically his torso. He can't see it, but he can feel her self-assured smirk at his attempt for privacy – and his face burns. How humiliating.

Handing him a shirt, he rips it out of her palm and pulls the sweater over his head; the cotton fabric stretches around his neck and settles onto his chest. It fits better than the clothing the hospital staff gives him, and it's much warmer. Absentmindedly, he fingers the cloth between his fingers, and feels a little more at home.

"I take it back. You look good in that colour."

He snorts.

"No need to get huffy. Here, these are your pants and the rest of your clothing. I assume one of the other nurses has already bathed you this morning, so you have no need for this washcloth. Nevertheless, I'm going to leave it right here, it's in the basin, and it's full with warm water." He hears the splash as she drops it into the basin. It would be nice to clean his face once more – hot steam on his skin comforts him.

"I'm going now."

"Good."

When she is out of sight, Dark Ace places a hand on the bundle of clothes and stands up. Mechanically, he strips from the waist down and dresses himself. He folds his clothes in the same manner. Once that is done, he reaches for the basin beside his bed, dips his fingers into the hot water, and squeezes the excess from the washcloth. Bringing it to his face but careful not to wet the bandage around his eyes, he relishes in the sensation of hot steam and washes his face – carefully, deftly.

He has just finished patting his face dry with a towel when the curtains are drawn open and Abigail re-enters with his guests.

"Nice to see you all cleaned up. Although you could use a haircut." If he could, he'd roll his eyes.

"You're not touching my head."

"Good. Because I don't want to."

Abigail leaves, her padded footfalls a little louder than usual, and Dark Ace turns his face in the direction of his visitors, tilting his head to the side.

Make that one visitor.

"They didn't want to come," she admits. "They thought it would be better if I came alone instead of overwhelming you with everyone."

"Good," he replies, "because I don't like to be crowded." Piper hmpfs and crosses her arms. "Well, sorry for wanting to be civil to you."

"Are you the one who brought me these clothes?" To make his point, he plucks at the fabric of his shirt and raises his head a little higher.

"Yes."

"Thank you." He senses her hesitation.

"You're welcome."

The silence stretches between them and he says nothing – stares at nothing. The clock on the wall that hangs above his head, it ticks one second away and tocks it all back. Piper is fumbling with her hands, searching for something to do as she rummages her inner vocabulary for the right words that will convey what she needs to ask of him. He can hear her take small steps closer, hoping that he wouldn't notice. He imagines her biting her lower lip. When she is within a hand's breadth of his knee, he smiles to himself, raises his bandaged head, and unsettles her with a single phrase.

"What do you want?"

The girl inhales, and inspects her pockets for something. There is the sound of metal clinking again. "The Storm Hawks need your help."

Quickly, and albeit too eager, she presses a weighty object into the palms of his hands. Piper releases the breath she had been holding. It is cold – definitely metal, with layers of built upon it. It is also round and as large as his palm. Cradling the small thing within his fingers, he traces the edges of the crest with a forefinger and recognizes the shape of the bird on the badge. It is the same one Master Cyclonis used to wear on the front of her cloak.

"Why are you giving me this?" Swift anger bubbles forth in his chest and if he could, he'd take a swipe at the girl. The Cyclonian medallion doesn't belong to her, what is she doing with it?

"I didn't steal it," she confesses. "We went back to the base after it had collapsed. Junko found it the same time I went to find you some new clothes." He's glad when she takes a step backwards. He is still bound by his mistress's orders not to harm the girl.

"I'm not a good guy, Piper. I'm not someone you can trust. If you think you can buy my loyalty by handing me something that belonged to _her_, you're wrong."

"I wasn't trying to buy you off." He winces when her voice raises a pitch higher in agitation. "I just thought it would be nice to have something that reminded you of Lark."

"She's gone, Piper." That was it - that was the truth. He paid for it with the loss of his eyes.

"But what if she isn't?"


	2. To the Edge of the Earth

A/N: Everyone give Madame Lady and .PhaerynTao a gigantic applause for their beta-ing skills! You gals are awesome.

* * *

**Lady with the Lamp**

_( chapter two: to the edge of the earth )_

The first thing she does after her trip to the hospital is sit at the kitchen table for vanilla cookies and apple juice with the rest of her teammates. For some reason, her neck is uncomfortably warm and her heart is racing fast. Outside, it's a perfect summer day, and the Condor is on autopilot, heading towards a small terra known for its picturesque scenic spots. A perfect place for an afternoon picnic.

They make small talk about the stringent cleanliness of the stone buildings, and Piper lectures them on the long history behind the hospital; it used to be a religious sanctuary. It is named Our Lady of Lourdes for a reason. She squints when the sunlight hits her directly in the eyes through the portholes, and asks Finn to close the blinds for Stork's sake. He breaks out in hives with too much exposure.

Junko asks if anyone is going to polish off the biscuits and when no one objects, he lifts the entire plate, places it in front of him, and promptly consumes the rest of the goodies with his bare hands. Lynn chuckles.

"So, that's the Dark Ace, huh?" Finn clicks the roof of his mouth with his tongue in approval.

"That's right. That's the infamous right hand man of Master Cyclonis."

"He doesn't look all that scary to me." Stork gives their newest recruit a pointed look. Young, snarky, and fifteen – that was Lynn all right. Discovered during an undercover mission at a Talon academy, Aerrow kept his promise to create a reserve Storm Hawk squadron and eventually brought Lynn into the group, much to Piper's delight.

"Oh, but he is. They said that if you looked into his red eyes, you could see your death coming right at you." Stork stands behind the girl, waving his fingers on either side of her face and speaks in a manner befitting one telling a ghost story around a campfire.

"Rumours say that when he held the Aurora Stone in his hand against a battalion of sky knights, the monsters of the Wastelands rose up from the depths, ready to snatch their prey from the skies. Large, black monsters that preferred to feed upon young girls… " Lynn's eyes widen as Stork continues his tale. Behind the Merb, another shadow looms over him, his long fingers wiggling mischievously.

"Girls… just… like… YOU! " Stork screams when Finn jumps him and grabs the pilot around the waist, effectively scaring the daylights out of his pilot.

Lynn bursts out laughing. Piper is not amused.

"Finn!" She smacks the blonde in the arm. "That was mean!"

He shrugs. "Hey! I was just trying to lighten things up a bit! C'mon, Lynn here doesn't need to know all the gory details. And after a trip to the hospital, I'm definitely in a mood for some humour." He raises an eyebrow when Piper's jaw tightens and she leaves the table to refill her cup. He knows her long enough to recognize when something else is on her mind. She's been moody since their morning trip, and he wonders what really went on inside the ward.

Finn feels a little guilty that the crew left her to speak to the Cyclonian alone, but she was the only one capable to get through to him.

"Hey, want to tell us what's really on your mind, Piper?"

With her back facing her teammates, she pours the juice into her glass and listens, a waterfall of clear amber liquid, and drains it down with a long, noisy gulp. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Junko voices his opinion on the matter.

"Yeah, Piper. What did the Dark Ace say?"

"He said to come back later."

"Do you think he'll take the offer?" That's Lynn now.

Piper repeats her words and stresses them more, hoping they'll get the picture without her having to explain further. Her body may be in the Condor, but her mind remains at the ward. "_He said to come back later._"

Stork sighs heavily and sits down on the table, looking morose as usual. Summer weather is bad, the heat affects everyone's minds. Finn runs a hand through his hair and squeezes himself between Lynn and the Merb, and points at Junko's chin.

"Dude, your face is _still_ full of crumbs." The Wallop rubs the cookie remains off with a brown thumb. He scoots over a bit when Piper decides to plunk down beside him and props her elbows on the table in bad manner, cradling her head. Junko pats her back comfortingly.

"Headache, Piper?"

She sighs. "Yeah." Raising her head, she glares at Finn in a childlike manner for aggravating her situation. Blinking, she glances around the table and sees four pairs of eyes watching her as if she was ready to split open any moment like a burst burrito. When Stork asks her if she came in physical contact with the strange fronds gracing the hospital's lobby area she shakes her head and clutches her stomach. Stress. The apple juice loudly disagrees with the cookies.

"Ugh." And Piper excuses herself from the table, ready for a nap, but mostly, it's an excuse to think in solitude.

In her darkened bedroom, Finn knocks on her door and opens it without her permission. The girl looks pointedly at him and drops her head back on the cold sheets. Touching her head and neck, her skin is flush.

"Are you really sick, Piper? Or are you just playing hooky? C'mon, I know you long enough to know when something's on your mind – and I'm sorry if you take it the wrong way, but you're not very good at telling lies." It doesn't bother her when he sits on the edge of the mattress and prods her gently in the side. "Piper?"

"What if we don't find him?" Her voice is small and uncertain and Finn knows exactly what she is talking about. "What if they're gone for good?"

Glancing over at her table, he notes the particular layout of the heavy metal desk. There is a blueprint of the Condor tacked to the wall, the pathways marked in red felt showing all the emergency exits. Piper's goggles, the ones that make her look funny by exaggerating the size of her eyes, is next to a microscope and a four inch stack of paper. The marksman shudders. He hates to be bothered with paperwork. A well-worn brown notebook catches his eye. It's almost as thick as the paperwork.

"Hey, look. Here's your journal."

"Don't touch it, Finn." Piper's response is automatic. Huh, even with a headache she knows how to keep him in line. He doesn't touch the journal. Her thoughts interest him more.

"Want to tell me what really went on with Dark Ace?" Even with her head buried into the pillow, he hears a long-suffering sigh.

"Nothing. I don't think he's going to help us. I even pulled out the Cyclonian medallion and everything, told him Lark was still alive – but I don't think he'll take my offer."

"Aw, you're being too hard on yourself. Besides, you haven't even asked yet."

"No, Finn. I really mean it. He won't have anything to do with us. He just sat there, a grumpy middle-aged man, and stared at me like he could see through my lies. What makes you so sure that he'll help us find Aerrow?" Somewhere along their conversation, Piper changes her position, turning from her side onto her stomach and hugs the pillow with both her arms. Finn lies down on the bed beside her, and tucks his hands behind his head.

If they were younger, their position would have embarrassed the heck out of them both. But years have gone by, and they were more comfortable in their bodies, and in each other. You live with the same individuals for several years and you become familiar with some of their habits. They were both seventeen now and Piper learned long ago that Finn didn't understand the meaning of personal space very well.

She wonders how her teammates would react if they knew how chummy she and Finn could be. Junko wouldn't mind, the Wallop loved giving hugs anyway. Stork and Lynn would have heart attacks. Aerrow? Well, let's just say that the three of them didn't mind falling asleep in each other's laps, exhausted from picking their brains with military strategies and crystal enhancers. Those were back in the days of the war.

"For the record, Piper, you're not lying to him. We are. All of us."

"I just wish I don't have to be the one to tell him she's been alive all this time. It's horrible, what happened to Lark. And the Sky Council! They were going to execute him once he got those bandages off – without a proper hearing! Can you believe that? They were never going to give him a second chance."

Finn shrugs. "Hey, they make the rules, not us. We're just the enforcers, and I'm not even your sky knight, I'm just filling the role until we get Aerrow and Radarr back."

"Aerrow would never agree to this."

"Yeah, but Aerrow wasn't there to voice his opinion." The blonde sighs. Normally, he didn't give this much thought to politics, choosing to take the lighter side of life and follow directions, but there were some things even he couldn't ignore.

"A lot of people still think Ravess and Snipe should have been executed too. But their family's influential, and they have the money to work out a deal. Dark Ace has no one and Master Cyclonis's gone crazy. You're his best chance, Piper. You're the girl suited for the job. No offense or anything, but if Junko, Stork, or anyone else tried to talk to that guy, he'd probably gut us with a scalpel on sight." The blonde frowned. "Well, if he could see anyway."

"_Finn._"

"Don't get mad, I'm just telling it like it is. You're a girl, you like crystals – he'll talk to you." A long, deep breath indicates the end of his speech. Piper wiggles a bit and blinks in the darkness. It's nice to stay like this, to have a friend like Finn.

"That wasn't very inspiring you know."

"Hey, I'm not Aerrow."

"I know." The mood in the bedroom becomes more somber. Deciding it was time to end this little heart-to-heart chat, Finn uses his elbows to prop himself into a sitting position.

"Are you gonna sleep all afternoon? We were thinking of taking Lynn for a picnic and maybe take a dunk in the lake. Wanna come?"

"No, thanks. I'll stay behind and update the log book." Poking her in the shoulder persistently, she slaps his hand away and starts to giggle when Finn's fingers tickle her ribs. Drat. He's always like this, annoying one hour then cheering her up the next. A familiar thought flits through Piper's mind: was Finn always this reflective or was it a side effect from hanging around with Junko?

"Hey now. You can't be moody all the time. That's Stork's job." He winks at her roguishly and stands up, brushing the imaginary dust off his pants. "Anyways, I wanna see you in your new bathing suit." He grins when she rolls of the eyes.

"You're a pervert, Finn."

"Yeah, I know. But you still love me." The door creaks when he opens it.

"You want the lights on or off?"

"Off, please."

He leaves.

* * *

The clock reads 4:46 pm. Piper stays in bed and thinks.

There are a lot of things on her mind, and peace time did not guarantee the freedom she once yearned for. For example, during the war, she would dream of a peaceful Atmos and spend whole afternoons dedicated to her crystals instead of worrying about their next mission. She might have left the Condor.

But when the war ended and Master Cyclonis went down in a way nobody expected, the Sky Council seized control of Cyclonia and launched the remaining squadrons into the area for capturing. Everyone was so busy Piper hardly even looked at her lab anymore.

Things have settled down a little bit now. The Storm Hawks haven't been assigned to the Wastelands for several months now. Before Aerrow and Radarr disappeared, the sky knight believed the reprieve was the Council's way of thanking them for their war effort.

In the dark, Piper is feeling particularly nostalgic. Opening the door just a bit, she listens closely to the sound of her teammates and hears nothing. They must be on that picnic now and enjoying the sunshine – except Stork. He might still be on board. Padding softly in the hall, she makes her way to the main deck and is pleasantly surprised to find the pilot seat empty.

Selecting a thick beige volume from one of the shelves, she returns to her room with the ship's log book – volume seven. Piper removes her boots and places the log book as well as her brown notebook onto the bed. Snuggling between the sheets, she picks up the first journal and flips through the pages and waves of memories wash over her, bathing her senses of days past.

Piper is the keeper of the Condor's log books; she has been doing this for years. At first, she did it because no one else wanted to and mostly because Finn argued that she had the best handwriting out of all of them. She wrote down the details of their missions, how much gas they have saved, how many crates of unrefined crystals are in their stock, and how her teammates are getting along with each other. Over the months, she filled one book after another, all with different textures and colours. Most of the time her hand held the pen, sometimes it's someone else.

Pressed between the sheets are photographs of old friends and torn scraps of memorabilia – reminders of the squadron's adventures.

For some unexplainable reason, she keeps an old candybar wrapper in there. It's Junko's, she can tell by the faint chocolate smell on the golden aluminum foil, and the traces of cashews imprinted on the paper. She just found it one day, and the whiff of cocoa reminds her of home.

There is an imprint of a key on a thin clay block that belongs to Finn. Well, not quite. It's an exact replica of Burner's keys to his private locker, the hidden stash where he keeps all his precious oils and wax for his customized air skimmer. Finn swiped a copy after losing several bets to him during their time on Terra Saharr. Burner doesn't know about it.

Stork's contribution comes in the form of small triangular scraps taped into the journal. Upon first glance, they look like recipes consisting entirely of herbs and leaf stew, but she knows they are secret antidotes to strange diseases and illnesses that he is constantly wary of. Piper smiles widely, her nail runs across the slanted print as she reads instructions on how to detect if one suffers from an early onset of elbow leeches.

There is something from everyone in that book, even Radarr. To Piper's amusement, there are several pages dedicated to him, all covered in his paw prints. This was right after Aerrow and Radarr's adventures on Terra Zartacla. She remembers they were standing at the time, the redhead's hands flat against the table as he looked over her shoulders, making sure her words were correct. She was almost finished with the story when Radarr, covered in grease, fruit pulp, and god knows what else, decided to hop onto their heads and scared the daylights out of her. Furious at her spoiled work, she refused to speak to them for the rest of the afternoon.

The log book is more than just a journal now. It's the heart of the Storm Hawks.

She remembers when Junko flipped through the pages, holding a bottle of juice in one hand, and applauded Piper for her perseverance. He could never do something like this; it takes a lot of dedication to get everything down. In conclusion: Piper's awesome!

The girl's cheeks turn beet red at the memory. The Wallop is one of the sweetest individuals she's met.

Closing the volume, Piper places it gently on the floor of her room and opens her notebook. Like the previous journal, this one isn't the first of her diaries but her fifth. Her entries are personal, these are _her_ memories and the guys all know about the book's existence but don't look in it. She scribbles in it, sketches in it, and hides little secrets between the pages so thin that you would have to blow on the edges of the paper to let it out.

Most of them are her thoughts. She talks a lot about crystals, how frustrated she is that she can't get a Floater to harmonize with a Froster, and ends up freezing her desk in the process. On occasion she likes to copy phrases from books she's read, and her pile of quotes continues to grow. Some of them are from Aerrow.

There are lengthy descriptions of various crystals, spontaneous mathematical calculations for the Condor's navigation, and pencil sketches of her teammates, mostly in profile.

There are two things she loves the most.

One is a bundle of letters, tied together with twine, evidence of Piper's past correspondence with a girl named Lark. Slender fingers remove the elastic from the journal and the stack of letters fall onto her lap. She sets it aside, bitter feelings start to encroach on her heart and since her visit to Dark Ace, and the girl is not in a mood to further reminisce about Cyclonians this sunny afternoon.

The second thing is a drawing of Starling, sketched during a surprise visit from her favourite sky knight.

* * *

The Interceptor was standing at the helm beside Stork, holding her elbows close to her body, and Piper was sitting on the couch, working through a particular problem with the Condor's fuel economy. It seemed Finn was sneaking midnight rides on his skimmer again. She had an inkling why and had half a mind to confront him about it, but not alone. This was a problem that concerned the rest of the team.

"Piper." Starling called out to her without looking back. The girl jumped in her seat and squeaked from the thrill of being addressed by her first name.

"What is it, Starling?"

"Stork tells me that you draw. Is it true?"

She blushed. "I can draw a little."

"Can I ask you a favor? Can you draw me?"

"Sure."

Piper stood up and started to fuss about her first art commission. Where would Starling sit? Did she even want to sit? What about the lighting - was it too bright on the deck or did she want to go somewhere a little bit darker? How about her pose? Piper didn't know a lot about position and she usually drew whatever came to mind. Sketching inanimate objects was more of her strength, and drawing people made her nervous.

What if the sky knight didn't like it? What if her drawing skills were completely exaggerated?

"Piper, I would like to you to draw just the way I am. Standing up like this, if you please."

A little frazzled, Piper nodded and excused herself to retrieve her drawing materials from her bedroom. Starling shook her head.

"No need to make it official. I'm just as happy if you drew on a piece of loose leaf paper and you gave me a copy afterwards." After several chuckles of reassurance from the sky knight, Piper settled on sketching in her notebook. Secretly, she was delighted with the prospect. Touching the tip of the pencil with her finger, she flipped to a new page and looked up at the Interceptor.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

Minutes ticked by and all Starling could hear was the drone of the Condor, the tick of the clocks, Stork's breathing, and the scratch of Piper's pencil. Out of the corner of her eye, the woman caught the Merb's gaze and they both looked over their shoulders at the young artist. Her brow was furrowed in deep concentration and they could clearly see the bubble of intensity around her.

Every line had to be perfect. Every dot on the page had to convey the secret and the mystery that was Starling. Piper chewed at her bottom lip and hesitated marking a line that strengthened her subject's jaw. She didn't have that strong of a chin, did she? No, her hair was more important. And the eyes. Always the eyes.

A smile tugged at the edge of Starling's lips, and she winked at the pilot in secret. He chuckled silently.

When the sketch was finished Stork came over to check on the drawing before Starling did. Piper sat on the couch, her hands clasped in her lap as she fretted over the quality of her work. She tried her best, she really did. Did she still want the copy? She'd make it better of course, and add a little watercolour to it.

"It's really good. Thank you, Piper."

Her heart never fluttered so fast before. That night, she stayed up much later to create another copy of Starling's portrait. More confident this time, her soft B pencil touched up the dark shadows hidden in the sky knight's eyes before setting it aside and preparing her paints.

It was a happy memory.

* * *

In her room, she flips on the desk lamp, adjusts the brightness, and turns the head so the light falls upon the edge of her bed. She squints and flips through her notebook, exquisitely careful that her fingers do not accidentally smudge the lines of her sketches, and replaces the thin sheet of tracing paper over the page.

Three weeks later the Storm Hawks received word of Starling's death. Piper remembers that moment too, and her heart still hurts when she remembers how lonely the Interceptor must have been after losing her squadron and living undercover as a Cyclonian after so many years. It's hurting now.

Readjusting the blankets around her, she holds open the page with Starling's sketch with her thumb and forefinger, recalling the dark shade of her eyes. The strokes around her lips curved upwards a little. The Interceptor wore a smile that day.

Piper wonders why.

Starling.

She died before the war ended. Suzy-Lu and the Absolute Zeros were with her at the time; her squadron's past experience with the Raptors came in handy when the Interceptor finally confronted Repton. The Blizarrians said she fought fiercely, that she fought to kill. It wasn't just about justice anymore; it was about avenging her fallen comrades. It was the Raptors who murdered her squadron, and it was Repton who delivered the killing blow.

The woman severed Repton's right hand during battle. He busted her left kneecap in return. Locked in a deadly grip, they fell from their rides and fell into the Wastelands below. The Sky Council called it an unfortunate loss – a hero's death.

Aerrow called it suicide.

Sighing, the girl closes her eyes and takes a moment to calm herself. She recalls receiving the telegraph from the Council, and the unexpected visit from Suzy-Lu and Harrier. The latter was there because he knew about Starling's mission, and she had been staying on Terra Rex for the past several months in preparation. Besides, the Interceptor was one of their own, it was only proper to hold her funeral at the land of her birth.

Piper closes the notebook and shuts her eyes. Rolling her shoulders back, she gets up from the bed and flips the light switch. She leaves the journals exactly where they are, skips past the desk and pulls open the second drawer of her dresser. After some rummaging, she takes out a towel and her new bathing suit.

It's time to go outside.

* * *

"Hey look! I found something." The Wallop's voice catches everyone's attention and they all waddle their way over grass and sand and Junko waves the white object over his head. Piper gently pulls his arm down and inspects the fragile, circular shell.

"It's a sand dollar."

"A wha-?" To Lynn's amusement and nobody's surprise, Piper explains.

"A sand dollar. But this one's dead, what Junko's holding is just the shell. They're marine creatures that live in water, usually hidden under muddy or sandy areas like a beach. You see the marks here on the flat underside? That's where the spines are located; they can dig further into the banks or crawl around slowly. All sand dollars start out as free-floating larvae and a skeleton begins to form – that's what you're holding in your hand Junko."

Stork shudders at the mention of the word 'larvae.' Bugs, nature, water, dirt. They were all hazards to life, such as it was, the Merb never ventured into open water without thick, rubber fins on both of his feet. Too easy to cut your soles on the slippery rocks.

"Germs."

"Well, I think they're pretty neat."

"Thank you, Lynn."

Junko gives the sand dollar to Lynn and the girl tosses it onto her towel so she wouldn't forget. They play a game of Frisbee afterwards on the lush grass, everyone except Stork, and the game ends suddenly when Junko throws the plastic disc a little too hard and it lands within the top branches of a poplar tree.

"Hey, no problem. I'll get it!" Piper rolls her eyes, secretly crosses her fingers, and watches with the rest as Finn jumps onto the trunk and hauls himself over the nearest branch. Anticipating the future, the Merb raises a single finger in silence and stalks off towards the Condor to retrieve the first aid kit.

Several bruises, a twisted ankle, and a saved Frisbee later, Junko gives the team a group hug and his huge, Wallop muscles threaten to squeeze them to death.

With the Condor as their backdrop, Stork sets up the tripod and sets the timer for the camera to ten seconds. When he presses the button in his hand and eerily whispers 'ready' everyone scrambles to get into position, their faces grinning like mad while the pilot squeezes behind the navigator and the new girl, his face a melancholy melody, and blinks just when the flash goes off. Bright lights hurt his sensitive eyes.

Piper laughs when Lynn does a very accurate impression of Finn falling from the tree, and even gives the injured guy a hug when he starts to sulk and claims nobody appreciates his tree-climbing skills, sticking out his lower lip in an adorable pout. He tries to get Piper to kiss him to make the boo-boo all better and loudly accuses her of murder when she gets all flustered and playfully punches him in the arm, the idiot.

The sky is darkening as the evening clouds roll in and gradually block out the sun, and the Storm Hawks gather their towels and sandals and head back towards the Condor. Piper hangs back a little and watches her little family head home.

Finn. Junko. Stork. Lynn. Radarr. Aerrow.

They are all part of her family, they are her siblings. They are her teammates and her friends all rolled up into a sushi roll of love.

And Starling. She's part of the family too – the older sister, even if she did spend more time alone than with the team.

A genuine smile appears on Piper's face. She doesn't mind when the grey sky turns into storm clouds and the first droplet of rain splashes upon her nose. Clutching her towel closer to her chest, she makes a beeline for the airship and laughs when Stork waves his arms frantically and warns her about the incoming lightning bolts bound to come from the sky.

Piper loves her family, and she would do anything to get them all back.


	3. The Fling

A/N: To Madame Lady and .PhaerynTao – the Ace/Finn argument was originally Ace/Piper (hence the confusion). And 'Phae, don't worry about it, dear. Best of luck towards your scholarship essays!

* * *

**Lady with the Lamp**

_( chapter 03: the fling )  
_

Standing in front of the mirror, Piper adjusts her orange headband and wipes her palms on her hands. She inhales deeply through her nose before expelling the air from her lungs. Staring at her reflection, she blinks and prepares her speech for the umpteenth time.

"Hi, it's me again. Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you've made up your mind yet. You know, about my offer."

Piper frowns and drops the line immediately. It still doesn't feel natural, to introduce herself like an old friend. She massages her temples and tries again. She squares her shoulders and takes a step towards the mirror, her face a mask of seriousness.

"Dark Ace. I'm here from the Storm Hawks and I want to know if you've made your mind up."

Nope. Not that one either. Too stiff - she felt like a prison guard. Ruffling her hair in exasperation, she leans against the bathroom wall and eyes her reflection critically. Dark skin, blue hair and tangerine eyes. A teenager. She hardly looks like a prison guard, and definitely not _his_ friend.

It's been two days since she gave Dark Ace the medallion. Tomorrow, she will go back to the hospital and ask him what his answer is. She hopes he will take their offer, but wishes she isn't the one to relay the information he's missed out on. But where to start? How to approach the subject? If he could still see, Piper would gladly write a letter and present the unfortunate news that way; she was much better at communicating through words than speech, it came with her job experience.

So far, the team has to get four very important points across to the Dark Ace: One, tell him Master Cyclonis is alive. Two, inform him his hospital time is almost up. Three, if he doesn't agree to take on a guardian, he will be sent directly to jail. And four, if he goes to jail, he will be executed within the month.

The question is, why save a hanged man? Why indeed.

A knock on the door breaks Piper's internal monologue and she gladly welcomes the distraction. Junko raps again and asks if she's done using the bathroom, he would like to take a shower after working on the Condor's inner mechanics. The girl's slender fingers wrap around the metal handle, and she pushes it down.

"Sure, Junko. Hop right in. I was just using the mirror to practice my speech." Giving him a toothy smile, she moves past him gracefully before noticing the towel and the yellow plastic duck in his hands. "Taking a bath?"

"Yeah!" The wallop grins, wiping his cheek with a grease-coated hand. "I like to take a bubble bath sometimes with Rubber Ducky. It's relaxing."

Back at her cot, Piper paces the floor and waits for inspiration to strike her mind. Instead, she accidentally bumps her hip against her desk chair and quickly rescues a pencil that rolls off the table. Tapping the eraser against her taut lips, the navigator absently stares at the ceiling.

Why did it have to be so hard? Maybe if her teammates accompany her, it will be easier to talk to the Dark Ace, knowing her friends are literally standing behind her for support. He won't notice, right? He won't be able to tell…

"Of course he can tell!" she shouts and smacks herself on the forehead. Just because he's blind doesn't mean he's deaf! Besides, everyone arriving at once is intimidating, especially to a hospital patient. Too many Storm Hawks and Dark Ace's sensibility might short circuit and cause him to rally up his Talon hostility. And frankly, not everyone on the team is eager to see him. Nope. Piper volunteered to be his saving grace and now she has to confront him alone – although one other person to escort her might be nice.

She wonders how he'll react when he hears about Lynn.

What Piper needs is a well-thought out plan. She's good at that sort of thing, right? She breathes. Focus. The next step? Convince Dark Ace to help them find Aerrow and Radarr.

When she thinks about it, everything boils down to a straightforward equation. Unfortunately, it's not that simple. This isn't one of their old missions from the war, when they could slip through enemy lines, fight some Talons, then head back out for a breather; they were dealing with human lives. Lark needed her sanity back, and despite the efforts of multiple doctors, they couldn't stabilize her condition. She's unable to hold onto old memories, and she can't make new ones. Lark can't remember who she was, and she keeps forgetting who the Storm Hawks were.

In the end, Aerrow came up with the idea to have Dark Ace help Lark.

* * *

The Storm Hawks found out early on that the girl formerly known as Master Cyclonis no longer existed. After the last battle at Cyclonia, after Dark Ace destroyed the necklace around her neck, an explosion of astronomical proportions rocked the citadel and knocked everyone within range at least thirty feet backwards. It hurt. The entire building began to tumble apart like a tower of loosely held bricks.

Both Master Cyclonis and Dark Ace were unconscious, having received the full impact of the shattered crystal. Once Aerrow got a hold on his bearings, he leaped across the chasms that used to be the floor and called for the rest of his team to help. The girl wasn't breathing and the Dark Ace's face was a bloody mess. Scrambling up the redhead's shoulder, even Radarr had to force himself not to gag at the sight.

Junko hauled the older man over his shoulder while the boys carried the girl between them. Sneaking a sliver of the broken crystal into her pocket, Piper stuck two fingers between her lips and whistled as loud as she could. The Condor answered, emerging from the blackness, and Stork waved frantically from the main deck before turning the airship around.

Metal groaned as the hangar opened, and Lynn flew out on her ride, towing her teammates' skimmers behind. She waited with bated breath as Piper got on her heliscooter and the boys secured Master Cyclonis on the seat behind her.

The team made a quick getaway, just in time to watch the last supports of Cyclonia's palace collapse onto itself. As the ancient masonry fell apart, a large dusky cloud appeared over the ruins, a great beast of the shadows, and shrieked into the night before it shot up into the black clouds and disappeared like smoke. Piper immediately turned to her sky knight.

"Aerrow. Did you see that?"

He frowned. "Yeah, Piper. I did."

Stork flew them to the nearest inhabited terra. Finn rushed Cyclonis and Dark Ace to the hospital. Aerrow stayed back at the Condor and reported to the rest of the sky knights. Once he turned off the broadcast, the redhead laid a hand on the merb's shoulder.

"You did a good job, Stork. I'm proud of you."

"Yeah, I guess so. But there was only so much I could do." Stork did his best to patch up Dark Ace, but his strength lay in prevention, not healing. However, most of the blood was carefully cleaned off and the wounds were bandaged to the best of his ability. Sighing, the pilot collapsed on the floor, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. There was so much he had to learn.

But there was no time to rest now. Incoming calls flooded the ship's communication system as both the council and the other squadrons radioed Aerrow to confirm his report. Where were Master Cyclonis and Dark Ace? At the hospital? Good. The council just dispatched the remaining squadrons in the area to round up the last of the Talons.

It all happened very quickly. The detached Talon commanders were no match to Atmosia's united front, and Cyclonia's civilians were immediately placed under the protection of the council as a measure to establish order and prevent public riots in the streets.

When Master Cyclonis came to, she had no idea who she was. After a brief panel review from the council and a handful of sky knights, they all agreed that her memory loss was genuine. She was just a teenage girl now, she could be spared. Her guardianship was turned over to the Storm Hawks; Atmos had other matters to deal with, such as the execution of the Dark Ace. That man was another matter. Unknowingly, he opened a can of worms.

His last act of bravery, as Aerrow called it, sent a ripple of uncertainty amongst the squadrons. If his report was true, then the Dark Ace served his master to the end and was responsible for her condition. But more importantly, what was that thing he released from his master's neck? What sort of crystal sorcery had she been using? They knew the empire was slipping like water from the girl's hands during the last months of the war, and they were aware of the breaking solidarity amongst the Talons – so much that various factions actively sought to assassinate Cyclonis. Dark Ace was still a murderer, and murderers die. However, when the doctors approached the council and announced that the Talon in question lapsed into a coma, the came to see him on the operating table. There so many bandages over his face and upper body that it resembled a body cast. The man that every squadron feared lay immobile on that table. Bloody. Unconscious. And willing to die.

* * *

In her room, Piper stops pacing and places a hand to her neck. She felt sorry for the man then, and Aerrow felt it as well. Such an act of sacrifice made him human, right? Maybe they were wrong, maybe even the worst of people could be granted a second chance for redemption. Frowning, she purses her lips, remembering how Aerrow's proposition was handled.

The sky council scoffed at his idea and called him idealistic. He was too young. He didn't know all the personal histories associated with the Dark Ace. Did he know one of the elders on the council had a granddaughter who was on a squadron? No? Well, Dark Ace killed her and her sky knight. This all happened before Aerrow was old enough to ride his skimmer.

Old men held old grudges, and it was time to lay this one down. Dark Ace will be sentenced once he returns to full health. Then the council will bring him to the table, sentence him before the panel, and be executed as soon as possible. This was all to be done covertly, to avoid public inquiry – Dark Ace had just as any enemies in the public as he did amongst the varying squadrons. He was the right hand of Cyclonis, and therefore, public enemy number two. And since the girl could no longer be held responsible, he had to pay her price.

But Aerrow protested, and said it was wrong. He even got some of the sky knights to listen to his side of things and asked the Council to reconsider. But they wouldn't relent. Someone had to die.

Then the Dark Ace emerged from his coma and realized he'd gone blind. The doctors couldn't do anything; there was neural damage in his brain. Such bright light at close quarters did more than damage his retina; it short-circuited his entire visual system.

The medical report changed some of the opinions on the council. Rather than stare at his strange milky eyes, the Council sent him away to a quiet terra to fully recover until they figured out what to do with him later. Questions started coming in. Could they execute a blind man? Because he didn't die, was his sacrifice still valid? Was the Dark Ace harmless now?

To compensate for lost time, the council seized everything that the Dark Ace possessed: his financial assets, his Switchblade, his weapon – everything.

Then they turned their attention towards crystals in general.

The Storm Hawks went back to see Lark. Even if she was the villain, she was still just a girl – someone who was their age. Piper tried to connect with her, and showed her letters of their correspondence during the time of the war, back in the days when Lark's personality was becoming more defined. Did she remember writing to her dark-skinned friend? This was her handwriting; she slanted her letters exactly the same way, and her X's were always a little more curved.

"Do you remember how the crystals you were experimenting with started to react strangely to you? You told me you started getting tired easier, and sometimes you'd wake up with lapses of memory." The girl looked at her as if she were crazy. She can't be serious, right? They've never met before. If this was some sort of strange kidnapping, or even worse, a joke – she wasn't buying it. They must have drugged her.

"I'm Piper, your friend. Don't you remember me?"

"No."

The female Storm Hawk told her even though she did some bad things in the past, things were better now and she could start over again, become the person Lark would have wanted to be, and make friends. She was a friend, and Aerrow was one too. The violet-eyed child even allowed Radarr to sniff her hand before the blue creature licked her fingers in approval.

"Are you really my friends? Are you here to see me?"

"Yes."

"Then I'm glad. It's lonely here."

The following day, they went back to the mental ward to visit her, Junko even brought a tin full of Piper's homemade cookies. But Lark stared at them as if they were strangers, and visibly cringed when they approached her. She asked them what their names were, and if parents were coming to take her home. She'd like to go home. Please.

What could they tell her?

So, after much contemplation Aerrow decided that the best thing for Lark was to have someone to look up to, a father or an older brother figure, someone like the Dark Ace. Stork argued it was crazy to even suggest it, but the sky knight pressed the issue even more, especially if it saved two lives instead of one.

It was a hard idea to digest. Friendships were stretched thin, especially the Merb's. He'd gotten close to Starling, their similar personalities of practicing caution in their surroundings and hesitation to place trust in the wrong people, plus the closeness in their ages formed a tight bond between the sky knight and the pilot. He didn't want to place his faith in people who could die so easily.

One afternoon, after a group meeting on the subject, Aerrow confided in Piper about his conflicted feelings. She was tidying up, rolling the maps on the table when Aerrow walked in, rolling his left shoulder painfully, and sat down on the couch, but not before nodding towards her.

"Hey."

"Hey. Where have you been?"

"Relieving some stress. Sparring with Finn. Getting into an argument." The girl walked over to the couch and sat down beside him.

"Aerrow," Piper whispered, laying a hand on the sky knight's shoulder. "I think you really need to take some time and think about what you're asking your team to do. This is a big favor you're asking from everybody, and we have to know the reasons why you want to do it. Do you really want to save the Dark Ace?"

Sighing wearily, the redhead looked down at the ground before searching her face for reassurance. Was he doing the wrong thing? How do you deal with the man who murdered your parents? How can you let someone like that live?

"Do you think he should die, Piper?" They settled further into on the couch and the boy held his head between his knees. "I mean – what am I thinking? The guy killed my parents and made me an orphan – and now I'm asking the Sky Council not to execute him? What kind of reasoning is that?"

The girl patted his back comfortingly and leaned back against the seats. "What do you believe?"

"I'm confused. Some part of me believes the person my father trusted is still there, deep inside. You saw how he protected Lark - he was ready to die for her. I can't ignore that."

"Even if he might have done other bad things."

"Piper. We _know_ he did those other things." Leaning back against the seats, the redhead leaned his head against her shoulder. "What do you think? Am I still your sky knight?"

"Yeah, you still are. But that doesn't make this any easier." He chuckled and gave her a lopsided grin. They were getting older, _nothing_ was getting easier. "But I'm still your First Officer. I'll agree with what you say. Now, you better get Finn in here so we can work out our next mission. I hope you didn't beat him up too bad." She remained seated while he got up and stretched his back muscles. Damn, his body was still sore from the training session.

"Thanks, Piper. I appreciate you listening to me like this. The other guys, I don't know how they'd react if they saw me less than a leader. Lynn, especially."

* * *

One week before Piper gave the Cyclonian medallion to Dark Ace, the Storm Hawks gathered on the main deck of the Condor after their meeting with the sky council. It was a disaster. The men on the panel questioned where their sky knight was, and Finn had to lie about Aerrow and Radarr's whereabouts. They were on a mission to retrieve something from an old acquaintance. Where? At Terra Gale. The proof? The Condor's log book. It says right on this page that their leader would be missing for several days; they even had a record of Dove's broadcast confirming his arrival.

But never mind Aerrow. Have they changed their decision regarding Dark Ace?

"No."

But they were a squadron. It was Aerrow's idea from the start.

The elders shook their heads and gestured towards the door. They were still too young for decisions like these. It was better if they voiced their concerns as a public complaint, rather than a pose as a sky knight.

Lynn lost her cool. She accused the council for exploitation of the Storm Hawks. If they were treated like a squadron, then they should have the rights of one. And this talk about casting your vote with the public eye? Rubbish. Their opinions on the matter held as much importance as the Screaming Queens, or the Rex Guardians. They were a squadron, not civilians. Treat them like one.

Unfortunately, the girl's reproach was ill received. Finn had to drag her out of the lobby before she further embarrassed herself with her forthright manner, even if her brashness retained the core of what they all kept in their minds.

"Why didn't you tell them!" she shot back when they returned to the Condor. Leaning against the wall, she crossed her arms, clearly irritated. The youngest member of the team shot daggers at the rest of her teammates. Why didn't they object to the council's decision? Wasn't that what the Storm Hawks were all about? Fighting for a free Atmos? Saving people? They broke the rules by forming a squadron and joining the war effort, so why play the silent card now? They were cowards. She looked towards Junko for help, but the wallop merely shrugged his shoulders and stood behind the blonde, silently making his stance known.

"Traitors! All of you!" she shouted.

Stork broke the ice and reprimanded her behaviour. It wasn't cowardice, it was necessary.

"It's all up to Aerrow," stated Piper glumly. "Once he turns eighteen, he can register as an official sky knight. Then we can be a real squadron."

"Then why doesn't Stork take up the idea and register for all of us? He's the oldest one here." The merb rolled his eyes dramatically as his black hair fell across his face.

"Like Piper said, it has to the _sky knight_ who registers the squadron. I registered the Condor with my pilot's license. They're two entirely separate identities."

"Okay, then Finn. He's our acting sky knight."

"Nuh-uh, Lynn. It's not that easy. First off, I'm not even eighteen yet. And it's more complicated than that."

"Pfft. I'm starting to get the idea that everything's complicated around here." Sensing the girl was ready to ditch the conversation at any moment, Piper decided to play the Mom role.

"Look, Lynn. I know you've been with us for almost a year, but you still need to learn some things. There will always be certain situations we have to go with, even if we don't' like them. If someone else, say Finn, was turning eighteen soon and he wanted to register us as a squadron, he could. But that means he has to become our sky knight. Do you understand? If Finn was going to become our sky knight, then Aerrow couldn't. it would take forever to get him back into the group. We'd all have to sign a document agreeing to hand leadership over to Finn."

"In other words, its legitimized mutiny," Stork added gloomily.

* * *

Stork remains with the Condor. Junko and Lynn wait in the lobby. Piper and Finn enter the ward.

They're back in the hospital, surrounding his bed, two people against one. And still they're losing.

Dark Ace clenches his fist, making no attempt to curb his disapproval and tries not to think of the medallion hidden in the drawer of his bedside dresser. He thought about the girl's offer for two days, turning the metal disc about in his hands until he memorized every ridge and valley on the emblem, and almost came to a decision early that morning when the Storm Hawks arrive and dash his belief to pieces.

_She_ was alive. She was alive all this time.

"You lied, Piper. I didn't think you had it in you to deceive, but you did. You gave me Master Cyclonis's medallion and asked for my help. Now you tell me that you want my help finding _Aerrow_? What do I care for that kid? Nothing."

"But finding Aerrow will help Lark!" He raises an eyebrow at her.

"Explain."

"Don't you want something more than just _this_?" Piper exclaims, throwing her hands forward in exaggeration. "What will you do once you're out of the hospital?" The older man grunts.

"Piper, both you and I know that I'm just here to heal and bide my time. It's only because I'm blind that I'm not dead yet." Still not satisfied, the girl chomps on her lower lip and the boy narrows his gaze. That's it then. He's made up his mind to just sit here and wait to die. The infamous Dark Ace just lies in his bed, forks deep-fried noodles into his mouth, and waits for his execution date.

But Finn has to give Piper credit for having the guts to confront Dark Ace. She's in her mode of righteousness, and he knows she wants an answer.

"You weren't supposed to know, no one knows apart from the Sky Council and a few of the sky knight squadrons. She's alive, but she's living in a mental institute now." She glances at the Cyclonian, and Piper quickly turns her gaze towards her hands. "She's healthy, but she doesn't remember who she is."

"It's better if she doesn't remember who she is. You girls can be friends again, my master always wanted that."

"That's exactly why you have to come with us. If you help us, you can help Lark. If you allow us to become your guardians, we can take it to the Sky Council and ask them to reconsider your execution date, maybe even push it back indefinitely if you work with us. A lot of sky knights want you dead, but there are a few who think you deserve to live. Maybe not a free man, but you'll be treated well. Think about it, _please_."

She exchanges looks with Finn and the blonde shakes his head. Everything is a mess. Aerrow believed the Dark Ace should have a second chance. But Dark Ace is slated for capital punishment. Aerrow's birthday is coming up, and once he turns eighteen he can register as the official sky knight of the Storm Hawks. Then, as a team, they have a better chance to oppose the council's order. Dark Ace doesn't have to die; he can stay close to Lark and help her get through her new life. Both of them can have new lives.

But Aerrow is missing; their trump card is gone. They need a new plan. The team can't wait for their leader to miraculously reappear, fearing if they wait too long the council will implement the Talon's death sentence. They have to guard the Dark Ace now, and the only way to achieve that is if the older man is with the Storm Hawks. No other squadron will take him in.

"You're just pulling those excuses out of your ass." Dark Ace cuts through all their excuses with a single statement. "I get it. You just can't bear to see me die." Piper loses her control.

"You're a coward. I don't know what happened to you on that operating table, but they must have messed with your brain. The old Dark Ace would never give up this easy. He would have done everything to protect Lark."

"Master Cyclonis," he corrected her, his voice low and dangerous. Piper shouts right back at him.

"_Lark! Her name is Lark!_"

Finn grunts at the man's stubbornness, and Dark Ace's sightless gaze snaps onto him.

"And you, what are you doing here? Can't work up the courage to face me unless your girlfriend's here?"

"Hey, she's not my girlfriend."

The older man laughs. "Sure, because we all know she's waiting for her boyfriend to come back from the dead."

"Aerrow's not dead!"

"And a sky knight that runs away from his squadron isn't a coward. How long has he been missing? You never told me. Is this the first time he's disappeared - or maybe you're lying to me again? You're wasting my time, Piper, go take your little crusade elsewhere."

He must have struck a chord. Cheeks flushed, Piper turns on her heel and marches right out of the room. The boy's eyes flash in anger.

"Don't you dare talk to Piper like that," Finn warns him, pointing a finger in his direction. "Nobody talks to her like that."

"And what are you? Aerrow's replacement?"

"That's none of your business."

"Then keep out of mine. Don't tempt me, boy. I may be blind, but that doesn't mean I'm helpless."

He's angry. Good. He should be after giving up so easily on the one person who needs him the most, Lark. Piper wants to save that girl just as much as Aerrow wants to save him.

Finn opens his big mouth. "Oh, really? Because you're not just helpless, you're pathetic. Last time we were here, Piper just talked to you. But I could see you through the windows – you were just sitting there, all mopey and the like. Betcha you can't fly anymore. You're all talk and you can't even back it up. You couldn't even stand having one girl around you, and all she did was ask you for help. Some big shot you are, so caught up in your little bubble of misery."

Dark Ace hisses through his teeth and lunges forward. Being younger and faster, Finn quickly jumps out of the chair and moves beyond his reach.

"What? Angry now? Whatcha gonna do, hit me with a pillow? Ooo, I'm really scared now!"

"If you don't shut up, I'll do far worse than that, _little_ _boy_."

Harder, Finn has to push harder.

"Little boy? I have a name you know. It's Finn. But do you have a name? I guess not. You're not really the Dark Ace anymore, are you? Maybe we should call you the Blind Ace. Look at you, you're a joke. No one takes you seriously anymore."

"Shut up!" He stands up and jumps off the bed, his hands ready to grab his throat and choke the brat to death. Annoying whelp. He'll kill him with his bare hands and prove he's not helpless, not by a long shot. But in his haste, he knocks over his tray of food and it clatters onto the floor loudly. Water splashes all over his bed and his clothes as the glass topples off the tray and smashes onto the tiles. With his sharp eyes, Finn notices Ace isn't wearing shoes.

"Wait! The glass-" Too late. In his blindness, Ace steps down. His foot crunches against the shards, the glass slitting open his skin, and he shouts in pain. Damnit. Stumbling backwards, his back collides against the bed before he slides down to the floor. Several nurses come to their aid immediately and push the blonde aside. Piper rushes in through the doors with the rest of the Storm Hawks, desperately hoping Finn hasn't come to any harm.

"What happened?" The girl's eyes widen in alarm as she takes in the scene. Two nurses heft Dark Ace back onto the bed while another one starts cleaning up the bloody shards on the floor. "Finn, _what happened?"_

"Um. I kinda made him angry?"

In the hallway, Piper is barely able to contain her anger and the rising urge to slap the blonde across the face. She isn't the only one. After hearing a brief summary of Finn's antagonizing, the nurses aren't too impressed with him either. In fact, his visiting rights have been banned for an entire week until he learns to keep a lid on that mouth of his.

"I had to do it. He wouldn't snap out of his melancholy."

"But that doesn't mean splitting his foot open! Finn! What were you thinking?!" He shrugs. There's no way out of this one, and even he admits he might have gone too far with the insults. Still, he was just trying to get a rise out of the guy. Piper sighs wearily – it's bad enough Dark Ace doesn't want to cooperate, even worse to have one of her own teammates physically injure the only person that might be able to help them.

"That's it. Junko. Lynn. Do you think you can take Finn back to the Condor for me?" The individuals in question nod, flank the blonde on either side, and grab him by the upper arms. The one in the middle opens his mouth in protest.

"Hey! What's going on here?"

"Finn. All of you are going back to the ship and wait with Stork until I get back. I don't know how I'm going to do it, but I'm going to go back in that ward and talk to Dark Ace. If I don't fix this problem now, he might never talk to us again and he'll never help us. I need to do this on my own, all right? Now, go." Junko looks back over his shoulder, and Lynn follows suit. Piper gives them a smile and waves towards their retreating backs.

"It's all right, guys. I'll see you in a bit."

When her friends are out of sight, Piper paces across the hallway and picks apart her mind for something to say to Dark Ace. Clearly, they underestimated his abilities and while Finn might have the right intentions, he went about it all wrong. Now it's up to her to clean up the mess. Again.

"Gaaah!"

So complicated. Everything has to be _so complicated._

Scrunching up her eyes to banish the evil, negative thoughts from her mind, Piper pushes open the doors leading into the ward and stands at the edge of his bed, resisting the urge to grab the metal frame for support. He's propped up on the pillows, his face a disgruntled mess, and the girl sees the bandages wrapped around his right foot. She winces at the sight of blood, but doesn't feel all that sorry.

"I'm sorry for what Finn did to you. He's a real idiot sometimes, but he's sorry for getting you injured."

"If he was sorry he'd say it to my face." Then he could wring the scrawny kid's neck. "And by the sounds of it, I'd say you're actually glad to see me hurt." She ignores his last remark; it will do no good for either of them to lose their temper again. Without words, Dark Ace nods at her and agrees. He'll try to be rational – try being the optimum word.

"I sent Finn away along with the rest of the team. He lost his visiting rights for one week by getting into an argument with you." He grunts, she was part of that argument too. "Anyways, it's just me now."

Ace laughs. Finally, the girls have done something right. The boy Piper brought irritates him, and he tells her he's glad the nurses kicked him out. As for her, it's the most sensible thing to do. If she swears not to lose her temper, then he won't either.

Flexing his toes, he can still feel the open wound, and it stings. If cutting himself is the payment for getting a rise out of these kids, then it simply isn't worth it. Maybe his destiny is to become lame as well as blind. What does she think of that?

Piper cuts off his self-pitying speech. "I have to get back to my teammates soon, but I have to know if you're going to help us or not."

"What makes you so sure I'm going to answer now? I could choose to say nothing and leave you with no answers." She shakes her head. Why was he taking everything so lightly and making it into a joke, as if it didn't matter to him at all? He just insulted her friends several minutes ago, she saw his anger flare up, and now he's back to being sedated? Piper's voice is a desperate whisper.

"Why won't you say yes? If you don't agree, you're going to get killed!"

"And why should you care? Are you afraid to see me die, Piper? Afraid it'll damage your innocent mind?" To his dismay, she leaves his bed and disappears without saying goodbye. He didn't anticipate that. What was she doing, trying to give him the cold shoulder? Report his bad behaviour to the nurses? Dark Ace stews over the girl's rude ending to their conversation. No one brushes him off like that.

By the time Piper returns with a nurse there is a definite frown on his features. Her aura's changed, and her anger has dissipated. Instead, there is a spark of something bright in the air – optimism? No, more like the smug smile of someone who has just one-upped him. He hisses at her like a bitter snake.

"What's this all about?" he demands, and the girl answers.

"I wondered why you were grumpy all the time, so I decided to talk to one of the nurses to see what I could do about it. Then I got an idea." He could hear the smirk in her voice, and he opens his mouth to tell her off. However, a woman cuts through his tirade before he can even start.

"So, Piper here tells me you want to go out walking." Dear god, it's Abigail. "Personally, I didn't think you were the type to take strolls through the garden, especially after your incident with the glass." He feels the nurse's hands on his leg as she slowly lifts his foot and inspects his bandages. "But she says the angry fellow with the bandage over his eyes has a lot of pent-up frustration. And since the nurses know you're the stubborn type, we're forcing you to go outside. You may be rude to us, but not to your visitors."

She places his foot back down and winks in Piper's direction. "It's not too bad off, your foot. The other girls must have reacted quickly. I'll just put on your shoes and you can go outside – but you have to take your cane."

"No."

"Hm? What was that?"

He slaps his thigh to get the message across. He's not a dog, he doesn't do walks. "You cannot force me to go outside."

Abigail's voice is firm and she stares down at her patient. "You have to start walking sometime."

"I will walk when I leave this place." He sets his jaw and Abigail places his hands on her hips, ready for a confrontation. Piper watches this subtle battle of authority and wonders how much power a nurse holds over her patients.

"Ah, I get it now. You don't like that cane." Smirking, Abigail beckons to Piper and places her hands on the girl's shoulders. "Well, if you don't want to use a cane, Piper will be your guide. You are going for a walk while I change your bedding. I wouldn't want any splinters to accidentally poke you while you're sleeping, right? Go on, take a walk. _I insist that you do. "_

They go outside.

The girl tries her hardest not to laugh at the sight of his white hospital-issue rubber shoes and the look of consternation on Dark Ace's face. True to his word, he's not using a cane but as a replacement, he has her. Walking slowly but surely, his hand is entwined in hers as she leads him outside into the gardens. To his relief, she stays close to his side and pretends she can't feel the crackle of insecurity surrounding him. There are only a few shreds of his pride left, and he has to protect them. Feeling and looking like an invalid is an image he wants to avoid at all costs.

The girl is persistent. She wants him to say yes.

Dark Ace halts for a moment and covers his mouth with a hand, while his brain tries to pick apart Piper's motives. In his lifetime, in his profession, the Cyclonian had to lie. Sometimes, lying was the only way to get out of a sticky situation. Dark Ace has been lied to before as well. It was how the Talons worked.

But Piper? No. Not once did he imagine the girl whom Master Cyclonis wanted to be friends with, would lie to him. Never. Aside from himself, the only person his mistress trusted during the last weeks of the war was the dark-skinned girl.

He stops when she stops and fights to suppress his questions when she doesn't let go of his hand. Can he trust her? Why should he?

"Guess what time of the year it is." He turns his head to her before lifting his face to the sky and feels the warm heat beat upon his skin. The light starts to irritate him quickly, he's accustomed to the artificial lights of the hospital, and the bandages across his eyes start to get hot.

"It's mid-summer." He hears her chuckle. He's wrong.

"Late May. We've got an early summer this year so the weather's been really nice for the past couple of weeks. I can't believe it's getting this hot already." Whether she's aware or not, her fingers squeeze his hand. The tea roses are blooming already, and she wants to smell them. "Don't you want to feel this? Breathe the air, walk around freely?"

So, this is her new tactic. If she can't tell him, she'll show him.

"Sorry to burst your cute fantasy bubble, Piper, but I'm still the bad guy. I don't walk around freely on the streets."

"But you can, you know. If you agree to help us, you could step out onto the grass and feel safe."

"Are all kids these dense nowadays? It's not about safety, it's about freedom. I don't have that luxury anymore. I'm a murderer. People don't want to see me on the streets unless I'm paraded around with shackles around my ankles. As far as Atmos is concerned, I'm dead."

He stumbles after her when she leads him away from the stone paths and his shoes hit the soft grass. The change in sound is immediate; his right foot doesn't hurt as much when he stands on the spongy grass. A miniscule wave of panic rises in his chest when Piper releases his hand to smell a pink bloom. The smell is very fragrant and delicate.

"So you really want to die."

"No. I don't want to die – but it's inevitable. I'm only breathing because the hospital hasn't been stormed by an angry mob carrying pitchforks and torches." Piper stretches her back and slips her hands into his again, before leading him further into the gardens. She looks up at him frequently, reading his face for signs of physical discomfort and a change of mind. There is a little of the former, but none of the latter.

"I'm not doing this just for you. I'm doing this for Lark. She deserves another chance, but she needs someone to look up to. She needs a big brother."

"So I'm the only other person besides the Storm Hawks who is close enough to her to get her to remember what exactly? I think you have your priorities mixed up. First you want me to find Aerrow, now you want me to save Lark. You tell me I'm going to be executed, and you can't have that. Anyone can see that you don't really have a plan, Piper. Don't tell me what Aerrow wants, or what the council wants. Tell me, what do_ you _want?_"_

"I want you to say yes."


	4. Lost and Found

**Lady with the Lamp**

_( chapter four: lost and found )_

* * *

_**Piper**_

As I got older, I tended to remember a lot more. Memories. They ranged from the obscure to the sentimental, to the ones that _shall never be mentioned again_. Silly things, like the time I forgot to fix the toaster and totally burnt my breakfast bagel the next day, or the time I almost walked in on Stork taking a shower. Purely by accident.

Yup.

I wanted someone to pass me the steel wool so I could scrub my eyes out for that one.

But there are other memories I don't want to forget. Little times of significance in the tapesty of the world that resonated strongly with me. Chalk it up to the weather, the food I ate that morning, or the way the words were said – but they're imprinted in my mind, stored in the crevices of my brain, and with a little bit of hard thinking, I could relive that event at any time of day.

I remembered hearing about Starling, and how Aerrow's tightened his grip on my shoulder, his fingers dug deeper into my skin as the story unraveled. No one breathed then, no one was allowed to. Harrier and Suzy-Lu landed on the Condor to relay the depressing news.

Just after the Rex Guardian finished his tale I must have wrenched myself from Aerrow's grasp, my throat constricted and feeling as if it had been stuffed full with balls of cotton. My shoulder was sore, so I made to leave the room. My lips muttered a barely audible "I'm sorry" and their sad eyes burned into me. I blink at all of them, their stark, heavy faces strangely bright and vivid in my mind. I turned around, and started counting the steps that would lead me to my door.

Halfway through, I started running.

A year passed and I still found myself thinking about her often. I guess we all do. Whenever I looked up at a rainbow, the innermost colour takes me back to her. They say that the first few months are hard, and they were. Two years passed and the pressure in my still didn't lessen whenever her name was brought up. Is it bad of me to say that? I feel that it is. People say "get over it" all the time, but really, do you want to? It's not just the grief, it's the memory.

Starling was my hero, I looked up to her – I wanted to be like her. She was my big sister. I guess it came with the orphan package - we all flocked together and stuck to each other. I heard that she lost her family, although 'families' might have been a more appropriate term if you separated your adopted squadron from your biological one. Deep in my heart, I wished that she was able to find the peace she deserved. And not just her, but for everyone else.

Aerrow wished it too. We used to talk about her, about life and how much or how little we knew about the Interceptors.

I guess Aerrow missed her just as much as I did.

But I told him he was still my favourite sky knight.

This year, on Starling's birthday, I was surprised to wake up to the sound of the boys cooking in the kitchen. Still dressed in my pajamas, I rushed to the stove completely barefoot, afraid the funny smell lingering in the air was really something burning.

Imagine my confusion when I saw Aerrow making pancakes that special morning.

"Hey Piper!"

"Hey." I hesitated at the doorway, and then slowly walked inside. "Guys, what's this all about?"

Making my way over to the counter, I smelled the familiar charred remains of overcooked batter and frowned. Aerrow shrugged.

"Sorry 'bout that. I turned the heat up too high on the first batch."

Peaking around his front, I spotted two spatulas, a large aluminum bowl and a goopy hand beater in the sink. Aside from that, the kitchen was sparkling clean. Spic-and-span, thanks to the scheduled cleanup I arranged yesterday.

Yeah, I still handed out chores to a bunch of guys and a girl. It wasn't so tedious as before, but it can still be a daunting task – especially when there was such nice weather outside.

I raised an eyebrow at him. The table was formally set for seven. The whole works. Napkins, cutlery, even tall drinking glasses were positioned meticulously on red and green checkered placemats.

This was getting more suspicious by the moment. Honestly, when you shared living quarters with a bunch of people you definitely honed down on their everyday habits. I may not be the most girly-girl out there, especially when it came to laundry, but I've figured out a few things on my own.

I liked to be organized. I liked to make plans.

These guys? Not so much.

Then the real kicker came. Plunking her hands on my shoulders, Lynn steered me over to the table, and sat me down forcefully. The girl spilled the beams.

These boys – my boys ­– were holding a birthday party. They took the initiative to celebrate Starling's birthday without me knowing entirely. From the other end of the table, Junko beamed at me, and gleefully grabbed his knife and fork when Aerrow set down two massive plates of food in front of us. For his first appearance, Radarr popped up behind the wallop's right shoulder, and tucked a clean napkin down his front as a makeshift bib.

Overtop my head, Lynn snickered at our chef. "Nice apron." The redhead blushed and untied the frilly yellow thing in a speedily

"Nobody tell Finn about this. I couldn't find the regular one, and I didn't want egg shells on my uniform."

The pancakes smelled delicious. Whetting my lips, I pointed a finger at him. "Um, it's a little late for that, Aerrow. You've got some yolk on your pants… and is that a soggy paper towel I see?"

Our fearless leader hurried over to the sink to wipe it off. In the meantime, I looked around the table and noticed we had two significant members missing. The lack of shouting was almost pleasing.

"Where's Stork and Finn?"

Before I could rise, Lynn pushed me back down into my seat and wagged a finger in front of my eyes like a mother hen. She even clucked twice before informing me that Stork was still at the helm while Finn was out to get the cake.

"Cake?"

"Yeah. _Cake_. Finn didn't say what kind he ordered, but he definitely said it was going to be good." Closing their eyes, both Junko and Radarr took a good whiff of the strawberries our youngest crew member just laid out on the table. Five different bottles of syrup and a container of butter later, my stomach was really grumbling in sweet anticipation.

"I don't get it. Why are we doing this?"

Just then, one of the missing boys in question appeared in the hallway, one hand on the doorframe while he lifted his snout and sniffed the air for potential carcinogens.

"It's a birthday party for Starling and the Interceptors." I could hear the merb's prophetic thoughts on salmonella and food poisoning as he inspected the countertops and eyed the wet spot on Aerrow's trousers. Giving his best stinkface, the green one turned his head and continued to elucidate me.

"It was their idea, not mine obviously."

I blinked. "Whose idea was it? Aerrow's?"

The redhead shook his head. Negative. "Well, sort of. Finn helped."

"_Finn_?"" I couldn't believe it.

"Yeah! We both knew Starling's birthday was coming up, and you know Finn, he was bored. We didn't really _plan_ anything – it just fell into place. But we had to tell Junko and Lynn."

Stork frowned at me. He must have just found about the party just before I woke up. Social gatherings didn't really appeal to him, and anything associated with the Interceptor was almost contraband to the merb.

"Why didn't you tell us?" I cried.

Correction. Why didn't they tell _me_? Stork was not pleased with the subject, but the least the guys could have done was let me on the secret before it actually happened! I could keep secrets!

"No offense, Piper, but we all agreed beforehand that you would eventually give in and tell Stork." My mouth formed a perfect 'o' before I stared down at my hands in slight embarrassment. Huh, I guess they knew me well enough to know I didn't like to leave anybody out.

And yes, I probably would have told him.

"Oh, I see." Automatically cue the pouting.

"Come on, don't be like that, Piper. Finn'll be back with the birthday cake." Cracking a grin, the younger girl sat down beside me and threw a hand around my waist, giving me a squeeze around the middle to cheer me up. Winking at Stork, she asked us all a very important question.

"Anybody want to guess what flavour it is?"

* * *

It is two weeks until Piper visits Dark Ace at the hospital again. The time is quarter past one. There is an empty try on the side table beside his bed as he rests on a mountain of pillows, and holds a medium-sized container just underneath his chin. The man forks something that looks like saucy pasts into his mouth.

The girl remains silent, but secretly bounces on her toes in excitement. She wonders if he is aware of her presence and whether it makes him uncomfortable. But Dark Ace continues to shovel the soy sauce-saturated vegetables between his lips. It's only when he slurps the last of the noodles does he nod in her general direction and addresses her by her first name. Her boots are much too loud.

"Piper."

"Um, hi."

Her particular brand of enthusiasm earns her a stern look but she brushes it aside and focuses on the curious blend of elation and nervousness in her stomach. She tightens her fingers into a fist, closes her eyes, and exhales.

"Your hearing with the representatives of the sky council is this afternoon. Are you ready?"

"Yes." He tosses the empty white takeout box onto the lunch tray and wipes the corners of his mouth with a clean napkin. "Deep fried noodles – who would have thought?" His voice is confident, elegant, and as usual, leaning towards cocky. Feeling no shame, he fumbles around for a toothpick and starts cleaning his teeth right in front of her, grunting when a particular piece of pork won't come out.

Awkward.

"I'll wait for you in the main lobby," she says, frowns a little, and turns to leave with an amusing spring in her step. She has to speak with the hospital's chosen representative, one of the nurses, and ensure that all of Dark Ace's papers are in proper order.

"You stay."

It's not a barking order, but it feels like one. Indignant, Piper walks over to his side and her jaw drops open when the blind man pats the bedding and tells her to help him stand up.

"I'm not one of your nurses." But she takes his arm anyway, makes sure his feet are straight.

He snorts and pushes himself off the bed, leans forward against her. "You don't have the makings of one." Looping her arm around his elbow, he points with his chin towards the door and instructs her to lead him to the nearest washroom where he can brush his teeth and clean up before they go to see the council.

"Don't forget my toiletries. They're in that green bag in the drawer."

"How do you know it's green?"

"They told me."

Overreacting a little, Piper's mind is in a tizzy and protests. She doesn't know where the bathroom is. Chuckling, Dark Ace doesn't buy her ignorance and takes a step forward, pulling her along with him, and makes her flush deeply when he says all she has to do is keep an eye out for the generic sign on one of the doors. Inwardly, he relishes teasing her, unsettling her nerves, and does his best to stare at her intensely despite the bandage wrapped around his eyes.

"Piper. How are you today?"

"Uh – fine." Her words are light, but cautious, and there are long gaps between as he asks her about her day. She is nervous about the meeting, but even more with his uncharacteristic behaviour. He seems more prepared than she is, as if he anticipates his inevitable fate and chooses to face it with the heart of a true Talon.

A light switches on inside her soul and she thinks that there might be a flicker of hope for them, but she stores the thought away for the future. As the Storm Hawk opens the door to the bathroom and guides him inside, he shoos her away and turns on the faucet with an experienced twist of his wrist. She plays right into his hands; this is his way of showing her that he is not an invalid.

She waits against the wall and crosses her arms. Piper's cheeks burn when she hears the toilet flush, and presses two fingers to her throat where her crystal necklace used to be. She swallows hard, and thanks the gods that the man on the other side of the door is washing his hands afterwards. There are some things that must always be done.

"Come on," he says, and grips her shoulder with his right hand. "Let's go meet those old men."

In the main lobby, it comes as no surprise when the hospital representative turns out to be Abigail. Tucking a thick manila envelope under her arm, the older woman smiles at both of them and heads out the doors to stand beside her husband and his skyride.

It is a slightly cloudy day; this is a good omen for Dark Ace. Although he can no longer see them, he prefers grey clouds over bright white ones. The sunlight is not as offensive to his face, and not sweating underneath his newly washed Talon uniform. His clothing comes from the girl during her last visit when she gave him back of his personal possessions. The fabric is like a second skin to him.

Abigail states the obvious: the Cyclonian must ride with someone to the mayor's office. The sky council representatives might already be there, and it will be a shame if they show up late. Vehemently, Dark Ace refuses to ride with the older woman despite her authority over him, and the nurse cracks her jaw, and retorts that she won't be driving anyways. She has never liked motorcycles, and her significant other will accompany her.

Under his breath, Piper hears him mutter "pudgy, aunt-figure" and fights to keep her face blank when the woman in question raises a thick eyebrow at him suspiciously.

"Then I'm going to ride with Piper."

As if he has a choice in the matter.

The nurse and her husband lead the way. He can hear Piper's shallow breathing, and he knows she is overly excited about speaking in front of the council. She tries to say something but ends up making unintelligible sounds with her mouth. Her inexperience (or is it youth?) is obvious when she guides his hand to the cushioned seat. The man wears an unreadable expression as he climbs on the ride and shifts his rear into a comfortable position. It is too soft for his tastes.

He didn't expect the bike to be built for two.

The bike sways a teensy bit to the right when the girl slides into her seat in front of him and turns the engine on. The heliscooter's blades chop the air loudly in the Talon's ears and his gut twists with regret that he will never be able to pilot his beloved Switchblade again. He doesn't even know where it is. Is this experience going to thrill him or will it be another disappointment in his life? He can count with the fingers of his left hand the number of times he has been an official passenger. Now, he is doomed to covet the hypothetical sidecar forever.

"Um, you might want to hold onto me, just in case we run into any strong winds."

Following her suggestion, he leans forward and places his gloved hands on either side of her waist. Piper jumps a little, and clears her throat to hide her embarrassment. She is incredibly skinny; he can wrap his arms around her torso twice and still have room to space.

"Are you okay back there?"

He nods unhappily. He is not looking forward to this flight. But before more unhappy thought formulate, the girl breaks through his melancholy barrier when she unexpectedly links their fingers together. Brave child. Her voice is soft and low.

"Hey, don't worry. Everything will be fine. All right, we're lifting off now."

* * *

Someone must be looking out for them. Piper knows it from the moment she opened the letter from the sky council. As she stands in front of the elders and pleads for the Dark Ace, she can feel the hatred radiating from the council's aging bodies. For the first time, she thanks the stars that the Talon is blind. The girl expects the worst, but the negotiations are working in their favour, mostly due to the medical reports. The papers are an effective tool to play up the patient's vulnerability, and she takes pride in his appearance. It was her idea to keep the bandages around his face to emphasize his sightlessness, perhaps stir up the dregs of sympathy. Somehow, a pair of sunglasses does not have the same effect.

It is over ten years since Dark Ace has last seen the council, and the irony of the situation is not lost on him. He can smell them, imagines them hiding behind a large oak table with their palms flat against the surface, glaring at him like a stray dog dragged into a kennel. Upon Abigail's orders, he must remain perfectly still and only speak when spoken to.

The woman's fierce allegiance surprises him; despite all the insults and empty threats he must have thrown at all the nurses, including her, the woman is amazingly generous when she describes his manners as a patient.

He supposes a nurse's loyalty extends further than the four walls of her ward.

The questions rifle from the elders lips one after another.

What is his condition? Is he of sound body and mine? Is he capable of flying again? On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate his independence?

Other questions surface, and Dark Ace's blood pulses, his heart beats frantically like a moth trapped in a dark box.

"No," one man says. "He is not allowed to live by himself without supervision. He must have a caretaker." The female Storm Hawks nods her head in agreement.

"How much money do you need for this task?"

The Talon's mind flashes back to the moment he first walked through the doors of the mayor's office. He came in here, expecting the council to shake their balding heads and take him straight to prison. This morning, he was confident of his fate – a dead man. Yet, here he is, listening to the first precious words of freedom.

"I declare the man known as the Dark Ace, top-ranking officer of the Talons, and champion to the previous Master Cyclonis, exempt from immediate execution until further notice."

It can't be true, it just can't. His mouth has gone all dry; all the bones in his body are crumbling into sand. Any moment, he's going to just fade away.

"We read these reports beforehand. And we, the representatives of the sky council, have agreed to reconsider this man's sentence under his special circumstances. It will take some time, but we will review his case carefully. It is clear he is no longer a threat to Atmos, but precautions still have to be made." The elder who is speaking scratches his nose with a liver-spotted hand and peers straight into the heart of the Cyclonian before addressing him. Piper sucks in a lungful of air and secretly crosses her fingers behind her back.

"Dark Ace."

The man's expression is blank. "Yes?"

"These are the rules. You are not allowed to pilot any skimmer. You must be accompanied by a member of the Storm Hawks at all times. Your travel is restricted to two terras at any one time. You are forbidden to fight."

Dark Ace holds his breath, and the muscles in his jaw clench. The previous soaring feeling in his gut is considerably lower now. Everything that helps identify himself as a person is gone. So, this is the price of his supposed freedom.

"Nurse Abigail informed us that you are no longer welcome at Our Lady of Lourdes, but also require constant medical surveillance for the first week. You need assistance for your _condition_."

The man grits his teeth and silently vows to choke on his tongue if the list continues for much longer. He can picture in his head, the council ticking off one limitation after another. He is a soldier, a fighter, and recklessly contemplates if hanging is slightly better off than being tied to the ground. As the elder continues babbling about the terms of his contract, he drowns out the excess with his selective hearing.

"Piper of the Storm Hawks, do you agree with our decision?"

Straightening her spine and stiffening her arms, she nods. "Yes."

The elder sitting to the far right of the oak table takes off his spectacles and rubs his watery eyes with the back of his wrinkled hand. He plucks the papers from the other man's hands and waves them in front of his face, a silent warning or unspoken penalties should the Storm Hawks fail. The council has been looking at the squadron's unofficial record to assess their credibility.

"Then we hand over guardianship of the Dark Ace to the Storm Hawks." But before the girl can breathe a sigh of relief, the elder speaks up again.

"You are eighteen, Piper." It is not a question, but she answers anyway. Her upper arms tingle in anticipation as the heavy burden of a man's execution gradually loses its weight. She resists the temptation to turn around and look at Dark Ace.

"Yes, I'm eighteen."

"Nurse Abigail will be retiring in eleven days, and the Dark Ace needs a replacement caretaker. The hospital can't afford to give up one of their employees for a non-critical patient." The elder shakes the papers furiously and Piper blinks. "You agree with this statement, but are you ready to take her place?"


	5. Little Impulse

**Lady with the Lamp**

_( chapter five: little impulse )_

* * *

"You didn't tell me you were eighteen." If the speaker was any other person, Piper might show a little more courtesy and inform the questioner her personal reason for not disclosing her birthday. However, this is the Dark Ace, and everything that comes out of his mouth sounds like a command for underling Talons.

Piper unconsciously raises her nose in the air, her dark lashes blink once and she says, "I don't think you need to know."

The man snorts and crosses his arms across his chest. She can't tell whether he is more amused or annoyed, but then again, it might be a mixture of both. Barely thirty minutes after his hearing and the blind man is back to his moody, incorrigible self. Well, his soggy mood won't have an affect on her, not that much anyways. She will allow his surliness to continue because, as luck would have it, he is not going to die.

In her hand is Nurse Abigail's medical folder on the Dark Ace and on top of the file is another small bundle of paper regarding the man's release papers. Well, more like terms of freedom, his legal rights, and the details of his guardianship. Once the Elders who represent the Sky Council exit the hearing room to catch their airship back to Terra Atmosia, the nurse excuses herself to search for the bathroom, leaving Piper and the Talon alone. Restless from standing still for so long, she starts wiggling her right foot and shifts her body weight to the side.

"So…"

"You're my nurse." Dark Ace snorts again, this time with more derision. Imagine that. First, he loses his master, goes blind, has his freedom stripped away, and now he's the patient to her caretaker. Just great, his life will be peaches and cream from now on - and all because he agreed to help the Storm Hawks.

"It's not like I wanted to." She says and her tone comes off just a touch too whiny. After one of the Elders pushed that piece of startling information towards her, she had no choice but to say yes. Piper is no coward, she won't let a little inexperience and social awkwardness (and gender difference, and age difference, and morality issues) get in the way of doing what's right. Dark Ace, commander of the disbanded Talons or otherwise, is still someone who needs her help. He gave his word to help them find Aerrow and Radarr.

_I'll scratch your back, and you'll scratch mine_.

"Eugh." The girl with the orange eyes makes a gigantic stinkface from the implications of that worn-out phrase. Oh dear god, she's going to learn how to be a nurse. The possibilities are horrific.

The root of her current problem speaks out. Piper turns to him and feels like gagging, so much for celebrating the removal of his death sentence. "What?"

The guys will _never_ let her live this one down.

But before Piper can consider clawing out her eyes from the swarming mental images of short white uniforms and sponge baths, Abigail returns from the washroom and takes the folders from the Storm Hawk. With a nod of her head and a "Come on, let's go!" she heads out the doors where her ride is waiting for her. Her padded footfall is the only sound in the room; the older woman turns around sharply and eyes the two individuals standing apart. Piper's expression retains traces of revulsion and the Dark Ace is merely bored.

"Well?" The hearing is longer than she expected, and therefore it is too late to go back to work for some overtime hours. "Are you two coming or not?" There's a package of spare ribs lying on the kitchen counter back at home that needs to be cooked. She left them out last night to marinate.

"Coming." Swallowing her pride, Piper reaches out and attaches her hand around his crooked elbow instead of holding his hand. Really, it can't be all that bad, right? All three parties inside the room notice but don't say anything. Abigail holds open the door as the joined pair step outside. The girl hesitates again just in front of her parked Heliscooter.

"Piper."

"Yes?"

"Drop our patient off at the hospital. Then come tomorrow at nine o'clock to start training." There is a grunt behind her and Piper fights to keep her lips in a tight line of silence. She looks towards the older woman for some aid, to tell her she isn't prepared to take on this job, and why didn't you tell me you were going to retire so soon? If the Talon was rude to her before, he's going to be impossible to handle in the future.

Abigail shrugs her shoulders and mounts the seat behind her husband's skyride. A nurse must do her job no matter how ill-tempered her charge may be. Piper watches the pair drive towards the hospital before them and mutters under her breath. Thankfully, the noisy blades of her chopper drown out most of her words. His hands are around her waist again for support, but this time she hardly notices, too engrossed in her self-misery to cast a second glance where his fingers are.

"Did you just swear?"

The girl wrinkles her nose and wants to say 'Shut up!' but ultimately says "Uh, no."

Once he is back in his bed, he asks her what his medical file says. She replies calmly that it's not in her jurisdiction to read what the doctors and nurses write unless she has their permission to do so. Somehow, he doesn't buy the act. Standing at the edge of his bed, she draws the curtains around them for privacy as he squirms on the mattress and decides to test her.

"Fluff my pillow."

Piper's mouth drops open. Incredulous!

"You're kidding, right?" The look on his face says no.

That evening on _The Condor_, Finn's cheeks expand like a chipmunk's as Piper relays all the stupid and thoughtless things the Dark Ace said to her that afternoon, and to think she used to pity him.

"He seriously asked you to add ice to his water? Is that even allowed?" Lynn is not helping either. Wearing a wide grin with one hand on her thin waist, she raises an eyebrow at the crystal specialist and in no certain terms, wishes the rest of the Storm Hawks could accompany Piper for her nurse's training.

Throwing her head back and making noises like a zombie, the victim of today's tiring events opts to crash on a nearby chair with her arms hanging down. Hoping for a pleasant distraction, her fingers touch the floor and Piper mentally decides to coordinate a ship cleanup sometime soon.

"So, what else did your new patient do?" Junko finally makes an appearance on the main deck complete with a tray of freshly cut slices of watermelon, and Finn jumps onto the fruit like Radarr attacks Piper's sandcakes.

"Let's see. He asked me about his medical file – I wouldn't read it to him. I think he heard me cursing, and he's not at all happy he's off the execution block."

Between mouthfuls of juicy red melon and spitting the black seeds onto the plate, Finn brings up a rather reasonable question. He ignores the piercing glares from the pilot and the soft threat of spreading bacteria that might affect their intestines if he continues to chew and spit watermelon on the floor of his beloved ship.

"So, what are we going to do with him?"

The conversation continues throughout the night. After Junko polishes off the plate, sadly pats his stomach and looks towards Piper for more food, the Storm Hawk's First Officer gives into his large child-like eyes and sighs. Okay, big guy, I'm going to make dinner. What's on the menu? Merb cabbage.

"Really?" The merb exclaims excitedly while the rest of the crew winces. The older girl sucks in her lips and her shoulders rise up to her neck in embarrassment.

Just kidding, Stork. It was a bad joke. Piper plans to make some beef stew, using the last of the supplies they bought on Terra Rex. As Junko breathes a sigh of relief, Lynn follows Piper's footsteps but tells the boys to clean up after themselves.

"Why can't you do it? You're going towards the kitchen anyways." Finn complains. "Hey, why don't we get our new nurse to start training right away?" The blonde expands his chest and in his best manly voice, commands Piper to turn around and clean up the mess for him. The teammate in question allows a sly smile to grace her face.

"Too bad, Finn. I don't start tomorrow. Besides, the Sky Council is paying me to do this job. You're not."

The next morning comes all too soon and with the parting snickers from several of her friends, Piper takes her Heliscooter towards Our Lady of Lourdes. As she flies over the orchards and buildings on this terra, she considers the Dark Ace extremely lucky. If they hypothetically switch bodies, the girl would be bouncing up and down with joy with the news. Waiting to be executed isn't something most people, no matter how awful, wish upon themselves.

However, the mental image of Dark Ace smiling and hugging strangers proves too much for her, and Piper almost drives her skyride into a cherry tree, narrowly missing the branch but earning a few whips in the face instead. There just may be a valid reason why bad guys come off cold and untouchable.

Nurse Abigail is waiting for her in the main lobby. Once inside, the girl's heart beats a little faster and she worries what she has to learn today. Eleven working days until the nurse retires, and there is so much to do until then! The team conversation back at _The Condor_ gurgles up to the forefront of her mind and she wonders, as she returns the medical files back to Abigail, how the Storm Hawks will manage it all.

For starters, the Elders made it perfectly clear he will have to be transferred to a new location right away. Hospital beds are always needed and judging from the patient's records, he is no longer in critical condition. The most logical explanation is to take him to the airship, but Finn and Stork are not ready to allow someone like him to step aboard their home. There are no spare rooms left, and to utilize Aerrow's quarters is clearly out of the question.

After her friends retire for bed, Piper stays up in her bunk and mentally scores out potential plans to make everybody happy. Add in the trauma of sponge baths, and Piper is a little more than nervous for the day.

"Morning!" she chirps happily.

"Are you ready?" Abigail's brown eyes, however stern, take to her warmly. There are eleven days left, but truly, they only have three days to spare.

"YES!"

Down three halls and through the doors of the east ward, the women greet the Dark Ace. To the Storm Hawk's surprise, he is still sleeping. Glancing at the giant clock mounted above the entrance to the ward, she reads five past nine and looks towards the older woman in confusion. Abigail merely smiles, the corners of her mouth turn up and Piper clearly sees the many lines around her lips, before raising a finger indicating they must be quiet.

"Why are we here?" the younger one whispers. This is certainly a deviation from the norm, to be within three metres of the Cyclonian without the risk of receiving insults. Her puzzlement continues to grow as they stand at the edge of the bed, doing nothing. Frankly, it's creeping her out.

"Um, Abigail?" Again, the older woman hushes her but anticipates her unspoken question.

"Do you see him?"

"Yes."

She extends her palm to show Piper she is not look at what she is supposed to. Stepping closer, the nurse gestures for her to come closer, so her hips are next to the mattress, but the girl doesn't want to come. Reaching into the pockets of her white uniform, she takes out a handkerchief, unfolds it, and shows one of the corners to Piper. The linen is not exactly white and one can tell it's been used over the years, but two embroidered letters near the scalloped edge peak her interest.

"Do you see this?" Sucking in her lips, the crystal specialist concludes the worst that can happen is the Talon waking up and shouting at her.

"What is it?"

"They're my husband's initials. It was given to me. Back in the day – Oh, maybe before you were born there was a fad. All the young men wanted fine linen handkerchiefs. Think of it as a sign you're well-off, almost like a woman showing her jewelry. Anyways, a lot of the men had someone embroider their initials onto the fabric to prove ownership or else someone would steal them." Abigail hands the object to Piper and the girl runs her index finger over the raised blue threads.

"As you can see, my husband wasn't so well off. And well, I used it a lot." She took a breath. "Anyways, before I ramble on too much I just want you to know some young boys had other designs on theirs. Emblems, family symbols, squadron crests."

The Storm Hawk hands back the handkerchief and returns her gaze over to the sleeping man. He is a light breather, and every once in a while his eyelids will rise just enough so she can see the whites underneath, but their whispering voices don't affect him much.

And then Piper realizes what she is meant to see.

"His eyes!"

This is the first time she looks upon him without the bandage over his blind eyes. She swallows and feels as if a hard, grey stone dropped into her stomach and upset the balance. There are scars along his brow where she assumes shards of the crystal embedded themselves into his skin, and genuinely feels sorry for the man. His nose is still intact, but the skin just above, the bridge, she can see the burns on his face. His thick eyebrows in that area look as if they have been waxed off.

Overall, he isn't too bad off. He manages to keep his head of jet black hair, his pointy chin, and his body with the exception of a foot, is still in good condition. The sleeping man grunts and Piper jumps away, suddenly realizing she is far too close to the Talon's face than she wants to admit.

But she will acknowledge is the sense of peacefulness on his face, like one who is able to breathe fresh air after hiding in an earthy tunnel for so long.

"This is the first night he's slept without a bandage on."

"Oh, really?"

Abigail chuckles. "Really."

The younger woman makes a face and ponders if this little indiscretion is a subtle life lesson older adults are known to bestow upon younger generations. Reading her thoughts, the nurse's eyes crinkle in delight and she lets the girl in on a little secret.

"Underneath his pillow there's a handkerchief."

The women leave the sleeping man alone and Piper is more than relieved to get out of the vicinity before he wakes up. In the corridor, they turn right instead of left towards the main lobby, and the girl's eyes wander along the walls as they head towards the inner hallways of the hospital. The whitewash reveals the stone masonry underneath, evidence of the convent's forgotten tradition, and at the end of each long passageway is a winding stairwell. There are many windows, not very many are stained-glass, but they all look towards the sunshine. A photographer would love this place.

* * *

When Piper follows the nurse inside the ward, Dark Ace raises his head with a grim look on his face and stares at the women with a high degree of contempt. Piper, familiar with his temper and his skills as a Talon, slides her feet a little father to match the width of her hips; her muscles tense should he suddenly attack. Again, she notices there is no bandage around his eyes. The peaceful face of a several hours ago transforms into a dark, scowling scar.

However, the nurse ignores his heated stares, shows him the traveling bag he will use to pack his belongings in, and places it on top of his feet. Orange eyes widen momentarily when she recognizes the Talon crest on the side and involuntarily raises a critical eyebrow. Such blatant propaganda is bound to bother some of the other patients even if it counts as part of his few personal belongings.

"Where is it?"

"Where's what?"

The man growls and rips off the sheets covering his lap, revealing a new and interesting pair of green pants to match his red shirt. New, in the sense the Storm Hawk has not seen it before, and interesting because the colours clash horribly. As Abigail and Dark Ace continue to argue, Piper maintains her observer status until the nurse points out her presence.

"Stop shouting, you have a guest."

Her attendance startles him. Realizing someone else besides the everyday nurses can see his scars; Dark Ace stills his acid tongue and turns his back on her. He hopes she will mistake his actions for arrogance instead of fear, he prefers to suffer antagonism in place of pity. Lowering his head so his chin touches his chest, he breathes heavily and waits for the expectant gasp from the female mouth to secure his place among the ugly.

"Um, hi."

"Hello, Piper."

"Um, what are you doing?" The question is directed towards Abigail, who answers with all the patience she can muster while her patient kicks the metal frame of the hospital bed.

"We were supposed to start packing his belongings, but I see now it'll have to be done another time." Glancing at her wristwatch, she inhales sharply through her nose before turning towards her apprentice.

"I'm sorry, Piper, but the meeting I told you about is starting in five. Can you take over for me? I've already held you up today, and if you need to go that's fine. Just leave a message at the front desk for me." They hear the screech as she pulls back the white curtains and then she's gone.

Alone again. Together, the Girl and the Talon serve as a breeding ground for awkward silence. She removes her orange headband, replaces it upon her blue hair, and touches her neck in the place where her crystal necklace once was. Carefully she approaches him, crossing the space to his side of the bed, when he abruptly turns his head away. Clasping her hands, they hang in front of her legs and it is not long before she begins to fidget. Abigail had her walking all day.

"Can I sit down?"

His gives a snarky reply. "Go right ahead."

To his dismay, she decides to sit down on the bed alongside him. The social experiment progresses when he doesn't move away, but increases the level of inhospitality. It's more than a little intimidating to be so close to him, especially when he is awake. But the hunch of his back and the line on his shoulders makes her feel bad, and she wonders what he lost.

So, she does something she does well: talk.

"You don't have to pack if you don't want to. I know your stay here is done, but the guys aren't sure where to put you up. I remember the Elders saying you can't pilot any flying vehicle, and I believe that includes airships too, but they didn't say you couldn't _stay_ on one. The problem is, we don't really have a lot of room to spare.

If you remember the layout of _The Condor_, you know there are seven bedrooms in total. The thing is, the seventh room is all taken up by our newest member of the Storm Hawks. Well, she's not really new – but she'll be new to you. Her name's Lynn, I guess you'll eventually have to meet her.

Anyways, my teammates and I were talking last night about what to do. You need a place to stay but the doctors want you to be close for the first week, just to make sure your eyes are healing properly."

The last sentence has a visible affect on her silent audience. He sighs.

"Dark Ace?"

"Just - keep talking."

But all the words leave her mouth as something inside her chest starts to ache. If only Aerrow is with her, if only her Sky Knight is not missing. Somehow, she feels more confident when he is around, as if she can never let him down. If Dark Ace were Aerrow, Piper won't hesitate to throw her arms around his shoulders and give him a comforting hug. Quickly, she racks all sections of her brain for a clever thing to say and perhaps raise his spirits in the process.

"Um, what did you lose?"

He looks at her now, turns his blind face and holds his breath, expecting her to gasp. And again, she doesn't. In lieu of her revulsion, the young woman wishes he could see her sad smile. Grabbing the Talon suitcase, she lowers it to the ground to indicate she will not rush him to do anything is he not prepared for. After all, they do have an agreement. The Storm Hawks have done their part, and now she is relying on him to return the favour.

"It's the medallion."

The Cyclonian swears someone has taken it; something that valuable is bound to end up on the black market. Thankful the curtains are drawn; Dark Ace's voice is full of barely held despair when he tells the girl the crest is missing from its usual place inside the drawer. Yes, the one next to his bed. Last night he remembers placing it there – he doesn't divulge why he has taken it out in the first place.

Finally, she has a problem with a clear goal. A twinkle in her bright orange eyes, she knows exactly where it is. Placing her right hand on his sleeve, she urges him to stand up so she can retrieve the object for him. He doesn't question her – he obeys.

And there it is, hidden underneath his pillows is the medallion. She picks it up using a square piece of folded cloth lying on top and returns both the crest and the handkerchief to him. Piper presses it into his hands and makes the mistake of looking at his face when she does. The expression of pure gratitude is something she is not likely to forget.

Suddenly, it is gone. The Storm Hawk may not consider it, but he is in her debt twice over. The first time is for making him walk, the second for this. These teenagers will always have one favour over him.

"I owe you." The blue-haired girl makes a face. Is he serious? Dark Ace places the keepsakes on the bed and unknowingly uses his signature deadpan face. She has not seen one of those in a long time.

Piper laughs hysterically although he is not really sure why.

"No problem!"


	6. A Bed of Ferns

A/N: Currently, all chapter names are titles from "The Piano" soundtrack. Today, a short chapter for a short song.

**Lady with the Lamp**

_( chapter six: a bed of ferns )_

* * *

Piper loves Finn – really she does. But on some days he is so annoying she wants to wrap her fingers around his throat and strangle him until he turns black and blue.

"So, what did the nurse teach the nurse?" he chided, looking over her shoulder while she is trying to work out the coordinates for their next trip. Her new patient, the Dark Ace, will be released from _Our Lady of Lourdes_ tomorrow, most likely in the morning. Her goal for today is to send a messenger crystal to the Sky Council defining which two terras he will be permitted to visit. Fortunately for everyone, the piece of floating land _the Condor_ is currently docking on is not included in the deal, leaving extra room for travel.

"Did Nurse What's-Her-Name give you one of those white outfits all the ladies wear?" The blond giggles and tries to imagine Piper wearing a pill hat to match her button-up uniform. To complete the ensemble she is wearing white standard flats. Always a man of appreciation, the sharpshooter strokes his chin and thinks Piper's legs look especially lovely when exposed.

"Finn, you're a pervert."

He laughs; blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "So? Did she –huh? Huh?"

"I'm not a nurse, Finn." Tapping a finger against her lips, the blue-haired woman traces the pencil line marked from the hospital all the way to Terra Edmontonia before deciding to erase it. No, that wasn't a good place for a recovering soldier to reside, not enough mountains and too many plains. The air was open there and the Cyclonian, although blind, might feel anxious about the sudden change from enclosed spaces to wide open ones.

"C'mon Piper. You spend all day at that place while the rest of us just hang around here with nothing to do." To exaggerate his point, he drapes his arms over her shoulders and knocks his forehead against the back of her skull.

"Finn! I almost crossed out Terra Lyn because of your carelessness!" Sighing, she tilts her head back and glares at her teammate upside-down. Holding one hand up to prevent personal physical injury, the person in question takes a step backwards but not before snagging her orange headband and tossing it up into the air. Piper screws her eyes shut and wishes – desperately wishes – the boy would grow up a little.

"That's not funny. Give it back." She is no mood for his antics today. The sooner she gets her work done here, the sooner the Sky Council can receive her Messenger Crystal and tomorrow Stork can take this metal bird flying again. Being grounded for so long is starting to affect the blond's head, she decides, he's too restless to keep both feet on the earth.

"You gotta lighten up, Miss Nurse."

Piper rolls her eyes and makes a point to correct him about her 'name.' It isn't Nurse, or Nurse Piper, and it certainly isn't Miss Piper – that moniker will never have a chance with her. Everyone, including her best friends, should simply address her by her first name.

At that moment another Storm Hawk decides to make her presence. Grinning casually, Lynn goes up to Finn and elbows him in the ribs. Formerly in the galley munching on a snack before Junko raids the fridge entirely, she heard voices coming from the cockpit and recognizes the other girl's high-pitched screams of frustration.

"So, who's calling my name?"

"No one," the navigator mumbles and stares helplessly at the two troublemakers when Finn passes her favourite orange headband to the younger girl who then twirls it around her finger. Digging her nails into her scalp, her blue hair is already getting out of hand as her bangs fall over her eyes and tickle her ears.

To her dismay, Lynn leaves Finn's side to stand in front of her. Running her small hands through the older girl's hair, she pushes back the wayward bangs and smiles worriedly.

"Hey, you've been pretty stressed lately." That much is true. Between learning how to care for a patient, dealing with a former enemy and trying not to get caught up in the red tape, the First Officer's senses are working on overdrive when everything starts crashing down tomorrow.

Which two terras to choose? For the first week or so, the Dark Ace has to check-in with a physician regarding his eyes. That part isn't so bad to plan. But after that week the real search for Aerrow begins. And don't forget Lark. The Storm Hawks made a promise to visit her often, to help her get better so she can leave the mental health facility and start a new life – hopefully with a reformed Dark Ace.

With so many problems in her head in addition to everyday headaches named Finn, Piper feels as if she has reached her limit when the journey has just begun.

"Hey," someone calls out to her and places a hand on her shoulder when she buries her flushed face between her palms. "Go to your bunk and get some rest. We'll handle the navigation from here, Piper." The blue-haired girl stares at Lynn in confusion.

"What?" The petite teenager cocks her head to the side and strikes a post. "Just because you taught me how to navigate doesn't mean you get a break? I can do the job just as well as you, and don't even think just because you're the nurse makes you better than the rest of us. The Sky Council handed over guardianship to the _Storm Hawks_, not you. So – get some sleep and we'll figure out what to do."

In her bunk, Piper sleeps and dreams of a home she left a long time ago. A small house surrounded by a square patch of garden. White stucco walls that looked pink in the sunrise and two windows that faced east. She knows this place that once belonged to her mother's sister, a childhood home for several years before they packed their bags and moved once more. They were always moving back then.

There are good memories embedded in those walls, music and laughing and dancing to fill her curious heart where there are no parents to block in the void. She remembers making wind chimes out of pieces of coloured glass and hanging them out of her window to catch the sunlight, marveling in the way the beams shot through the fragments and lit up her room with the brilliant hues of the rainbow.

Piper's hand reaches towards her throat and fingers the missing necklace.

* * *

During his last night at the hospital a man lies awake. His duffel bag is on the floor next to the guest chair. The zipper is closed but there is nothing inside, all his clothes and belonging are still tucked away within the bedside dresser or in storage.

He is glad to leave this place and yet he is afraid to go outside. In here, he can mope and whine and complain all he wants, ready to drag anyone into his personal bubble of angry hell over the loss of his mistress and eyesight. But then _she_ came and turned everything around.

Seventy-three percent of his being is grateful towards her and her team's incessant meddling into his affairs, thankful he is no longer slated for execution but on a different sort of parole with the Storm Hawks as his guardians and the girl Piper as his caretaker. He is right to assume she is the most responsible judging from her position as his rival's First Officer and resident Crystal Specialist. Those kids give him another opportunity – another purpose in this new life.

But he is still unsure whether he wants it.

Patting the skin around his eyes, the Talon frowns when his finger pads come in contact with the raised ridges on his face and he makes a promise to commit the scars to memory. The man has an excellent mental archive – this ability is incredibly helpful in his profession when dealing with Sky Knights and Talons, allowing him to imitate battle moves and sky formations with a bit of practice and use those same techniques borrowed from one rival squadron leader to another.

In the morning he doesn't have to see Piper to know she is exhausted. The girl drags her feet and tries to stifle multiple yawns with the back of her hand, causing her to halt suddenly in the middle of her sentences when she pulls back his curtains and tells him it's time to go.

"Good morning," he says. She yawns yet again.

"Mornin'." He hears her reach down for the duffel bag and the small squeak of surprise to find it so light. Laying it down on the mattress, slender fingers pull the zipper and Piper lets out a heavy sigh of discontent once she confirms it is empty. The Cyclonian can feel her orange eyes pierce him thoroughly.

"Long night?"

The tone of her voice is low and unhappy. He must be on her bad side; perhaps she woke up this morning on her bad side. "Why didn't you pack your things last night?"

"I thought you would do it for me."

She lets out a sound similar to that of a disgruntled lioness and ushers him off the bed so she can get to work. Piper doesn't expect Abigail to be here this morning since the older woman is buried under a cabinet full of last minute office work, but hopefully they will see her several times this coming week during the man's checkups.

The patient slides off the bed dressed in dark greens and sits down in the chair. Asking him what he's doing, he points in the direction of the dresser as if to indicate the task of packing his belonging is all hers. After all, he is a blind man getting used lack of bandages across his closed eyes and it's not as if he can sign any release papers now, can he? To her chagrin he takes a hand towel and covers his face with it; a sign of disrespect towards her as well as a blatant tactic to cover his scarred face. His new caretaker snorts – he silently tacks on the label 'incredibly cranky' in his mind and images taping it to her back.

Dark Ace snorts.

"What's so funny?" First, she makes his bed. The sounds of his toiletry bag as she handles it roughly echoes in his perfect ears. Carelessly she tosses it to the side and rubs her eyes to push back the nagging urge to take a nap. Next, she takes out all his shirts, socks, and pants from the drawers and lays it out on the sheets with little regard. Her mouth emits small bursts of feminine mumbles as a pair of jogging pants keeps sliding off silk pajamas, and she holds her breath when she finally reaches his drawers. Piper really doesn't want to touch those.

The irritation only grows as the silence continues.

Without warning, Piper starts swearing a little louder than she ought to. She chews on her bottom lip as the small folded piles of clothes slip and slide all over the place. He is no longer leaning back in the chair in amusement but leaning forward, his forearms resting on his knees with the hand towel dangling from his fingers.

"I can do those." He says at long last, expecting a sigh of relief from the girl but receives an angry snort instead.

Well, good for him. He's finally getting off his lazy bum to help her with his belongings. Stepping to the side, she forgoes the chair he previously sat in; the temptation to rest and close her eyes is not in her favour, and rolls up his socks as the Talon empties the last of his possessions in the dresser. Asking if he has any other material property in the hospital, he shakes his head and says everything else of major importance such as his sword and Switchblade is in the hands of the Sky Council. Piper nods in understanding and keeps her face down to avoid face-to-face contact.

"So, what's the plan?" He hands her the thickest of his sweaters to place in the bottom of the bag, closely followed by his pants. She follows his lead without question; her aura less tense with one less trouble on her mind, and in the privacy of his soon-to-be-empty hospital bed, Piper discloses a small segment of her grand scheme in progress.

"Since you're only allowed to visit two terras at any one time, we've already decided one of them." He raises a thick, black eyebrow and tilts his head to the side when she doesn't reveal any more on the subject. "Stork and I decided for the first week we'd have to stay on the terra for your check-ups but after that we're going to make a visit."

"And the other terra?"

The Storm Hawk lifts her head and gives him a little smile. "It's still in progress."

* * *

Leaving the hospital is a mundane affair. Sign the papers waiting for them at the front desk, have Piper place a pen in your hand while she guides your fingers to the place where X marks the spot – nod at the unfamiliar secretaries as they stare at the fresh bandages over your eyes. Yes, you're wearing bandages again because you hate their pity and their disdain and the unspoken judgments in their minds. But you don't have to worry about them; they've been all paid off by the Sky Council not to say a word about the black-haired man leaving with a young lady half his age, and you have no doubt that part of that money came out of your pockets.

You wonder how little sleep she gets when she leads you towards her Heliscooter. Yawns again. As she lets out an inaudible sigh and rubs her eyes for what must be the umpteenth time during the past forty-five minutes, you wonder if it is safe to ride the skies with such a sleepy pilot. Flying vehicles are toys for adults and she is sighing far too much for it to be a coincidence.

You wonder what time it is.

"Okay," Piper says and brings the back of her hand to her mouth, "I've got your bag secured in the back and I radioed _the Condor_ so they know we're going to be there soon." The girl hesitates and you know she wished Abigail was at the front door to bade her farewell with a few parting words of good luck.

Good luck is the first thing on your mind when you settle down on the seat and wrap your arms around her to avoid falling off.

She keeps postponing the flight. First she checks the speedometer, the gas gauge, then pats her clothes to make sure there is nothing foreign on her person. Did she lose a key hidden away in her pockets? Your hands are starting to go numb just staying still – hovering one centimeter above her waist. You won't touch her unless you're finally in the air.

Unexpectedly, she whips her head around to make sure you're behind her. Remembering the dark hues of her midnight blue hair, you spit out a few strands of hair in your mouth and make a face.

"Is the bandage too tight?"

You roll your eyes. No, it is not too tight but thanks for putting one on anyway. It's not necessary since the wounds are healed and I'm becoming familiar without something covering the top half of my face, but I can't stand people looking at me without fear.

And that includes you.

Pudgy-aunt figure must have taught you well, you were able to wrap the gauze around my eyes without much fuss but far too many sighs, and you were quick about it. Aside from aerial fighting and getting myself almost killed, I'm excellent at mathematics. Silently I counted all the way up to two hundred and twenty eight from the moment you started fixing me up. Most nurses I know take up to three hundred and one. In theory, they should be quicker from all the experience but I personally believe it's my nationality that makes them falter.

Maybe I'm the first Talon to walk in and out of those doors. I don't care to ask.

I'm just glad to get out of there.

This is my second time riding with her. She must be keeping count. Finally, with a few soundless prayers of my own, Piper starts the engine and we take to the air. The Heliscooter is louder than my Switchblade and if I continue to ride with her in the future I'm going to have to acquaint myself with the constant movement over my head. If I could see I wouldn't be so worried, but since I'm blind I wonder how much space there is between the top of my head and the rotating blades. I am a tall guy after all.

How short are you, Piper?

This is crazy, talking to myself inside my head like this, exactly like a madman. But it keeps me sane in a roundabout kind of way, with no fellow Talons or Cyclonians to converse with, all I have is myself. Something in this girl's tone of voice tells me I should be prepared to meet my mistress again. Not Lark, but Master Cyclonis. I wonder how she is and if she's grateful for breaking her crystal necklace. It was a beautiful work of art, a dark violet colour that matched the shade of her cunning eyes, a silver collar embedded with jewels and engraved with ancient runes similar to old texts found on Terra Xoam.

Hands around her waist, the second ride makes your stomach lurch and tumble with the sloppy way this girl is flying. Up and down, she jerks her vehicle sharply to the left to avoid something you can see and once or twice you swear you felt raindrops on your cheeks. But this machine is not under your control so you can do nothing about it.

Her body is surprisingly soft and now you think a washboard stomach is impossible as you test the boundaries with your fingers. You are holding on to her, after all. She smells like _the Condor_, like dirt and tiredness and worry. You haven't had a bath this morning either, thinking there wasn't enough time between the girl's arrival and your departure, not that you wanted one anyway. Unlike the gauze wrapping, the idea of a young woman touching your bare back is unsettling; especially when it's _this_ young woman you had in mind.

You remember her face; her dark skin and blue hair. The way she always hung around Aerrow whenever the two of you met in battle, the way Master Cyclonis's eyes widened whenever you mentioned her name. It felt as if a lance had been thrown at you when you discovered the two women were corresponding with each other through letters over the months instead of Messenger Crystals. Paper and pen were archaic in a world becoming increasingly dependant on crystals, but it was a safer and more discreet method of communication. Crystals are sparkly and catch your eye whereas a single envelope snuck inside someone's pocket can pass by unnoticed by crystal detectors.

As you hear the girl exclaim "There's _the Condor!_"into your sensitive ears, the bottom of your stomach drops out and falls below. Once you called this airship home. Over the years, you've seen it from the outside – the new paint job, the rust on her underside. And now, more than a decade since you left, you're coming back again. You can almost hear them, the voices of your old squadron as they pat you on the back and congratulate you on your new position as co-pilot.

Only this time you won't be able to see her.

And as Piper pulls into the hangar bay and you detach your fingers from her anorexic waist, you have to wonder which crew member now sleeps in your old bed.


	7. Longing

A/N: I haven't updated LWTL since August. Yikes! I had five pages written and three pages of notes, but none of it felt right. Gah! Prompts taken from LJ's 1sentence community because those things always give me inspiration.

**Lady with the Lamp**

_( Chapter Seven: Longing )

* * *

  
_

**Ring**  
There is a piece of jewelry handed down from the previous Master Cyclonis to the next. When Lark came to her coronation, it was the Dark Ace who knelt at her right hand and gave the signal for the Wise Man to give the princess her father's ring.

**Hero**  
Aerrow looked into the glowing face of the Oracle, her eyes and face radiant with knowledge but also full of sorrow. Wetting his dry lips, the Sky Knight lifted his hand that held the medallion and said, "Show me."

**Memory**  
It was Finn's turn to write in the ship's log book. He flipped to an empty page and wrote: _Piper returned with the Dark Ace. _Nothing more, nothing less.

**Box**  
"Is your guest with you?" Stork asked and cast his watery, yellow eyes over the Talon. She nodded and frowned when her teammate looked away, utterly disgusted.

"It's not his fault," she reasoned and handed him the duffel bag to put into storage. The carrier pilot shrugged indifferently when she told him to be careful with those. He was difficult, stubborn. Stork changed since they lost Starling.

"He's a Talon. Of course it's his fault."

**Run**  
Aerrow reached into his backpack for one of Piper's maps and checked the mileage on his skimmer. Radarr chirped, rubbed his eyes, and scurried up the Sky Knight's shoulder. Another morning, another day of endless travel.

**Hurricane**  
"What are you doing?" He barked as she re-entered the galley. Piper was taken aback with the anger and the harshness in his voice, they had only returned to _the Condor_ three hours before. "Why the hell did you leave me alone?"

**Wings**  
He didn't recognize the voice, but Piper helped him identify the Good Samaritan as a Wallop. It was a little messy at the moment, but in a few hours he'd have everything cleaned up and the Dark Ace could reside in Junko's room.

**Cold**  
"I've brought you a blanket," she whispered and without asking for approval, laid it over him as he lay awake on the couch. "Why don't you want to sleep in your old - I mean, _new _room?"

He sighed. Words came out of his mouth, a monotone voice she thought he had lost all feeling of joy. "It's his room. This isn't my ship anymore."

**Red**  
Two o'clock in the morning and she changed his bandages.

**Drink**  
Somehow, it brought a smile to her face when he relented and gave into Piper's offer to make something warm for them both. Her heart felt a little lighter as she recalled the look on his confused face. Drinking hot chocolate, in May?

**Midnight**  
Sometimes, he imagined he heard familiar sounds for the sake of feeling at home. Talons as they made their early morning rounds past his chambers, feet running towards the Mess Hall. The whir and the clank and the groan of metal as he passed the giant furnaces of Cyclonia on his way to visit his master on the throne, the sound Ravess made as she laughed at her twin brother.

**Temptation**  
It was so simple, power was the only reason he joined.

**View**  
It was hard to reconcile the image of Master Cyclonis with the image of Lark.

**Music**  
As much as Lynn enjoyed Finn's prolonged sessions of rock guitar (Sometimes. If only for prank purposes.), it was she who finally took away the instrument to shut up the Dark Ace's loud complaints. The girl rolled her eyes. Men.

**Silk**  
He told Master Cyclonis about her mother. She had no lasting recollection of her father and her fondest memories were of her grandmother. Three generations of women to rule the throne: one out of necessity, another from ambition, and the last had a future yet unknown.

**Cover**  
The day Aerrow left, Piper almost chose not to say farewell, thinking it was just another one of his brief solo missions.

**Promise**  
He was the reason her crystal necklace was missing.

**Dream**  
"Aerrow, why are you up so early?" / "I had a nightmare."

**Candle**  
He was a man and she was just a child, but he served Master Cyclonis out of love. Was that so bad?

**Talent**  
Her mother's sister smiled at her; shook her head when she admitted she didn't understand half of the words Piper uttered. Gently, she lifted the volume out of her niece's hands and stared at the cramped words, line after line of knowledge - so much information in just one little book.

**Silence**  
The house she grew up in was empty now.

**Journey**  
When Piper was younger, she used to make up stories to pass the time and to feed her child-like imagination. Her aunt would open the window, the spring wind made the chimes sing, and the two girls would sit at the kitchen table with their hands clasped in front of them.

"Once upon a time, there was a young boy…"

**Fire**  
So many fires forged the stone around Master Cyclonis's neck, so much technology and so much time.

**Strength**  
He touched his blind eyes, now covered with gauze, and was satisfied with Piper's work. Not once did he regret his decision.

**Mask**  
Crystal fragments in his eyes, cursed gemstones hidden deep within his flesh. If he could peel his skin in one piece, the wounds would still be there.

**Ice**  
Every terra reminded the Merb of the Absolute Zero. Fire meant Terra Saharr and her participation in the Great Atmos Race so many years ago. Ice reminded him of Starling's friendship with the Blizzarian. Stork's dexterous fingers gripped the handles of the steering wheel tightly as he muttered cruel words underneath his breath. He'd never forgive Harrier and Suzy-Lu for giving him the news of the Sky Knight's death.

**Fall**  
When September came, Piper's family moved terras and she moved to a new school. Before winter arrived she never heard from them again.

**Forgotten**  
And when the future navigator met Aerrow and his friends, she knew she would never be an orphan again. (_You are my brothers_, she insisted. _You are my family_.)

**Dance**  
Lark reminded her of a girl she once knew when she was five years old and still taking dance lessons. The blonde ballet dancer was a shy girl, a little supercilious, but had the makings of a prima donna.

**Body**  
What scars we have are only the ending of stories, never the beginning. It takes time and patience to read them.

**Sacred**  
Inside his duffel bag was a copy of _Herodotus._ When Master Cyclonis was older, he planned to give it to her. "_Every night, I'd cut out my heart. But in the morning, it was full again."_

**Farewells**  
The Storm Hawk had it in her head their Sky Knight would never leave them for something better. The Talon was tempted to tell her otherwise just to break her sanctimonious attitude.

**World**  
Once the redhead pointed at the stars and her tangerine eyes followed his finger up to the twinkling lights. "Do you see that, Piper? One day, I'm going to go back up there."

**Formal**  
His realized his future life would became a bland routine: wake up, get dressed, eat breakfast, and wait for the Storm Hawks to ask him what he knew about Aerrow. He hated the dependency, the inevitable distrust and scorn.

**Fever**  
And yet, it was easier to ask for something from Piper over any other Storm Hawk. The Sky Council may have appointed the squadron his caretakers, but only the girl had the proper training to deal with such a patient. In less than two days, he had grown accustomed to her voice and tried to recreate a face to go along with it.

**Laugh**  
There was another girl on _the Condor_; a female laugh albeit a little huskier. It must be the new girl she told him about.

**Lies**  
Piper wanted to give him the stack of letters, her half of the secret correspondence between the Storm Hawk and Master Cyclonis so he could learn how she tried to save her. But even so, she thought presenting him with evidence of the truth would be painful for his proud heart.

**Forever**  
Stork made up his mind already; he distrusted the Talon from the start. The war should have ended with _them_ - with the Storm Hawks, with the last Interceptor. Not with their Sky Knight missing and his beloved ship playing sanctuary with Cyclonia's champion.

**Overwhelmed**  
Her loyalty hadn't been questioned yet, but soon it would. The Dark Ace knew this story all too well.

**Whisper**  
She smiled and said, "Were you able to sleep last night?"

**Wait**  
He answered in a civilized tone. She was nice to him, he might return the favour. He lied. "I think I could get used to living here."

**Talk**  
Lynn answered the incoming message. "Burner just called. Thought we might want to drop by for some juicy rumours he heard this morning."

**Search**  
By the time she was ten, Piper finally accepted her foster parents were no more.

**Hope**  
One word, one name… Aerrow.

**Eclipse**  
A laugh and a jeer - a stab through the chest. "So, what's it like to always be in the dark?"

**Gravity**  
All of a sudden, Piper was in the room with him - she shouted for everyone to get out and leave him alone. His hands shook, his face turned dark, and he fought not to lose his temper. Stupid Storm Hawks who wanted his help and then treated him like this. Ungrateful bastards, if only he had his eyes, he'd show them!

The Dark Ace jumped up, hands eager to grasp whatever he could to exact revenge and his need for violence. Alarmed, Piper stepped between the wall that was his chest and the door, and used her voice to calm him down. She was sorry she left him even for a moment, she shouldn't have done that. She thought she could trust her friends. He was right about staying here. What they said to him was cruel.

She placed her hands on his shoulders and moved closer to him. He finally sat down, his body still rigid. This was the first act of comfort since he lost Master Cyclonis, it was almost like an embrace.

**Highway**  
Despite the heat, he kept the cloak pulled down over his face and eyes. Approaching the merchant, Aerrow reached into his pocket and took out the small purple fragments. "Could you help me find more of these?"

**Unknown**  
She learned her lesson the hard way. They had to leave tonight.

**Lock**  
Less than a week, and Piper was already repacking his belongings. _The Condor_ was a poor substitute for a hospital, no wounds would be healed this way.

**Breathe**  
She didn't know how to tell him without expecting some sort of physical response on his behalf, so she kneeled down in front of the Dark Ace, laid her hands over his, and told him they were finally going to see Lark.


End file.
